A Drop In The Ocean
by delightful-fear
Summary: Travelling first class on the Titanic's maiden voyage was going to be an exciting end to Blaine's business trip in Europe. Now, if he could only forget about the beautiful blue eyes of a man he only met briefly and will never see again, and focus on finding a wife... Part 1/3 of RMS Titanic Series. (KLAINE, AU)
1. Paris

***** PARIS - 1912 *****

Blaine rolled his eyes as his father caught the server's attention and did a circular motion over their glasses, nodding in satisfaction when she smiled in acknowledgement. _Really? Did they need more drinks?_ Already, he felt a bit embarrassed at seeing his father well on the way to getting drunk with his business friends, and couldn't relax enough to join in on their fun.

Sighing to himself, Blaine plastered on a smile and tried to look like he was enjoying the ribald jokes as he sipped his whiskey. They were getting raunchier, and Blaine was feeling more like cringing than laughing at most of them. And these were men he'd have to do business with in the sober light of day. Somehow he doubted he'd ever look at any of them, especially his father, the same way again.

"Blaine, have a couple drinks and relax...," his father leaned in to whisper in his ear, and turned back to his colleagues.

By the time the server brought the next round, he was able to pass her his empty glass and started sipping on the next. His father was right. A few drinks would loosen him up and he would laugh with everyone and not remember much the next day.

"La Femme Nikita is up next." Philipe gave a lecherous grin, and glanced towards Blaine.

The other men chuckled knowingly, and Blaine felt young and ignorant. "Oh, is she a good singer?"

His father shared the grin with his friends and nudged Blaine's shoulder. "She really is...something else. Just pay close attention."

Being almost done his third whiskey, Blaine was really starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. He knew something was going on, but his brain was too fuzzy to pin it down. Shrugging his shoulder, he turned towards the stage as the lights dimmed and a slow sultry beat started up.

The curtains pulled back, and there was a lone woman dramatically posed on a stool, her full length gown sparkling in the spotlight., her head tilted down. She was a vision, and there were many catcalls from the rowdy audience members in appreciation.

Shifting on the stool, knowing she had every man's attention, she crossed her long legs, and the thigh-high slit of her gown draped open to reveal pale, perfect skin. She was a pure tease.

Finally, she lifted her head, revealing high cheekbones and large blue eyes, dramatic make-up highlighting her beauty.

 _"You made me love you, I didn't want to do it, I didn't want to do it..._ " Her voice was soft and full of regret. " _You made me want you, and all the time you knew it, I guess you always knew it."_

It was those expressive eyes, that voice... Something he couldn't put his finger on... But Blaine couldn't look away, even when he heard the other men chuckling nearby.

Nikita got off the stool, moving slowly and gracefully as a cat, tall and lean. She wandered across the stage, singing about a past lover she was yearning for. And Blaine was thinking to himself that the man was stupid to not be with her.

By the time she got to the end of the song, it was quiet in the normally boisterous hall. " _Give me, give me, give me what I cry for, You know you have the brand of kisses that I die for._ "

Those lines got a good reaction from the crowd, hooting from a few men that they'd give her anything she wanted.

The song ended and the audience was cheering loudly, many on their feet clapping. Blaine joined them, not afraid to give recognition to a great musical performance like that.

Nikita smiled out at the audience, and curtsied gracefully with flourish. And when she stood back up, she gave a little nod and pulled her wig of long dark hair off. Her hair below was short, styled back off her face. A severe haircut...

Realization dawned on Blaine's face and his father was laughing and grabbing his arm. "Oh my God, your face...!" The other men were just joining in and laughed harder when Blaine slumped back down into his chair. The performer onstage bowed and was soon off the stage.

"So, Nikita...Nikita...is a man?" Blaine knew he probably sounded like a drunk idiot, but he had to know.

Philipe thumped his shoulder. "Yes, his name is actually Nicky. Nicky-Nikita...it's a clever act, yes?"

Reeling from it and running the act through his mind, it was still so confusing. Nicky had totally seemed like a woman, in the way he dressed, sang, moved. Every little mannerism. Blaine had never seen anything like it.

"See, Blaine, this is the type of thing I wanted to show you on this trip. Our customers are well-travelled and will expect entertainment that will be novel and exciting like this." Blaine's father leaned in close to talk with Blaine as the rest of the table shared more jokes. "Plus I've never seen you take such interest in a woman before. You were certainly watching her quite closely right up until she took her wig off!"

Blaine laughed along with his father. "You guys should have warned me!" He joked around with the other men, but inside he was still reeling from the performance. He had been drawn in by Nikita's beauty and sultry singing, admiring her talent and the way she worked the crowd. To find out the end she was actually a man was a surprise, but Blaine was even more intrigued by him now. Not that he'd admit that to his father.

After another round, Blaine excused himself and wove his way through the sea of drunk men to find the washroom. The room was quiet, and as he finished up at the urinal, another man entered who looked familiar somehow. Blaine took his time doing up his pants, sneaking quick glances to try to identify the other guy without seeming too obvious.

He was a couple inches taller than Blaine, slim but muscular, wearing a brown tweed suit. Even the quick look Blaine could give it revealed that it was of inferior quality. This man was not likely one of the patrons. Why was he here? His hair was coiffed in a tall style off his face, revealing fair skin, and delicate features for a man.

"You really shouldn't stare at another man in the washroom. It's unseemly." He spoke with a light french accent, but his English was clear. The man did up his pants and sauntered over to the sink to wash his hands.

Blaine followed, washing his hands and looking at the man, searching for words. "Um...I'm sorry...it's just that you look familiar somehow..."

The man gave Blaine a laughing glance, his blue eyes fully on Blaine for the first time, and Blaine gasped.

"Oh! You're Nikita...um Nicky, I mean." Blaine's eyes were travelling over Nicky's face, trying to picture it with all the eyeshadow and lipstick that he'd worn on stage, and marvelling at the transformation. The man before him, dressed in a plain brown suit, his face scrubbed clean, was just an ordinary man you would pass by on the street any day.

Nicky gave a small close-lipped smile, his eyes looking Blaine over carefully. "Did you like the performance?"

Blaine gave a delighted laugh. "Oh yes! You sang so wonderfully and performed it so well! You had the whole audience eating out of the palm of your hand. And the surprise at the end...well, I bet it's an act they will be talking about for days."

Nicky's eyes warmed under Blaine's enthusiastic review. "I'm glad you liked it. You'll have to come back another night. I'm singing "Some of These Days" tomorrow night and have this great red gown for it."

Shaking his head regretfully, Blaine pushed his hands into his pant pockets as they left the washroom. "I wish I could see that, but I leave with my father for England tomorrow."

Giving a little shrug that was somehow still graceful, Nicky paused in the hallway. "That is too bad."

Blaine should head back to the table, rejoin his party, but he didn't want to end his time with this fascinating man. "Um, could I buy you a drink? I'd like to talk with you some more."

Nicky gave Blaine a long look, so long and thorough that Blaine could feel his skin warm with a slight blush, and his heart was beating fast. Just being near this attractive man was affecting him, and he hoped it wasn't too obvious. He was used to pushing these feelings of attraction down.

Nodding decisively, Nicky stepped closer. "As a performer, I'm not supposed to drink with the patrons unless I'm in costume. But if you want, we could go backstage. I have a bottle stashed back there."

Blaine was surprised by the offer, and very tempted by it. But his father's warnings from birth were there, arguing against the idea, knowing it could be unsafe to go to a private area with a stranger. He could be robbed or worse. "Oh, Nicky, thanks for the offer... But I should get back to..."

His words got stuck in his throat at the sign of disappointment in Nicky expressive blue eyes. It was a fleeting look, before his armour came into place, and he pulled back a step.

"No wait...I changed my mind. Let's get that drink." Blaine stepped closer, tempted to put his hand on Nicky's arm, but held back. Maybe he'd had a few too many drinks and wasn't reading the signals right. You had to be so careful.

Nicky's eyes had a spark of happiness that made Blaine glad of his decision, and he didn't hesitate to put his hand on Blaine's arm. He dragged him down another corridor, and paused, listening, before he pulled a curtain back a little and led them inside.

They were in the backstage area, and it wasn't well lit. Blaine glanced around, trying to get his bearings, but Nicky sped them along. His eyes were scanning the hallway, obviously on the lookout for others, and Blaine tried to keep his footsteps as quiet as Nicky's. He got the feeling he wasn't supposed to be back here, and it was exciting to be swept along by Nicky's firm grasp.

Nicky pulled him into a little dark alcove, and in the dim light, Blaine could see the dress Nicky had worn earlier on a hanging rack with many other costumes. Shelving nearby was stuffed full of boxes and containers, and Nicky was digging into a box on a lower shelf before he pulled out a bottle.

Taking the cap off, Nicky took a long swig of the alcohol, and then held it out to Blaine, his eyes a little challenging, daring him to take a drink.

But Blaine had come this far, and he was excited by this adventure. Without even reading the label, he took a big swig of the liquid, and coughed after he swallowed it down. It was strong, cheap alcohol. Purely existing to get the drinker drunk, and not to be savoured for its flavour.

After taking another sip, Nicky put the bottle down and took a step closer. His eyes seemed dark and enormous in this shadowy space, and Blaine's breath caught at the expression in them. Heat. Wanting. Feelings he definitely returned.

Another step closer, and Nicky was almost pressed against Blaine, sharing the same breaths. It was too much for Blaine to resist, and he put a hand around the back of Nicky's neck as his mouth pressed against his lips firmly. Nicky's hand went to Blaine's shoulder, clutching and needy, and Blaine opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. _Oh shit. This was happening. And it feels so good._

They kissed hungrily, deeply, tongues sliding together as they pressed closer, bodies flush against each other. Blaine gasped as he felt Nicky's hands going to the small of his back, only the thin dress shirt between his skin and the warmth of his fingers. He was pulling at the fabric, and soon digging his hands into Blaine's bare skin.

 _Fuck_. What he wouldn't give for a night in a nice hotel with this man. Time to strip him bare and savour every inch of his pale, beautiful skin. But they only had a few stolen moments, trying to be quiet in the shadows, stifling their moans and heavy breathing. Getting naked was out of the question, not when they could be discovered, interrupted, at any second.

Beyond shyness now, Blaine moved a hand to the front of Nicky's pants, tracing over the hard length that he'd felt pressing against his stomach. It was still so exciting and new to touch another man like this, and he felt a surge of pure want as he heard Nicky's moan against his neck. He undid his pants, pushing the fabric away until he cupped him, bare and beautiful, in his hand. Stroking experimentally, he felt rewarded at Nicky's shudder against him.

His own cock was hard and aching in his pants, and even more so when he caressed Nicky, circling his thumb over the damp tip, rubbing the pre-cum over the head.

Only seconds later, he squatted down, grabbing Nicky's strong thighs to keep his balance as his mouth found that tip, sucking it greedily. Nicky gasped, his hand on the back of Blaine's neck and the other of his shoulder, clenching tight. Knowing they didn't have long, Blaine bobbed his head, sucking hard and fast, wanting Nicky's pleasure. It was quick, hot, dirty. He loved it. Soon, Nicky's hands were clenching against him as his body tensed, and Blaine stayed where he was, heart pounding in excitement as he swallowed.

He pulled back and Nicky fumbled to close his pants before urging Blaine to stand up. They kissed hotly, and Blaine groaned against Nicky's mouth as his long fingers found their way into Blaine's pants.

"Shhhh... You need to be quiet." Nicky whispered with a bit of a chuckle, his breath hot against Blaine's ear.

Blaine tried to be quiet, but Nicky's hand felt so good, so perfect. Dropping his head to Nicky's shoulder, he nuzzled his open mouth against his shirt, the warm skin only a thin barrier of fabric away. And when his orgasm took him, he bit down to stifle the noises he wanted to make.

Chuckling, Nicky reached over and grabbed a towel. He wiped up his hand, and Blaine, tucking him back into his pants. Blaine wrapped his arms around Nicky, hugging him close as his breathing slowed down and he cooled off.

"You better get back to your group." Nicky said softly.

Sighing, Blaine nodded and pulled back. These quick encounters were exciting and satisfied some urges, but they always left him wanting more. What would it be like to wake up to Nicky's beautiful blue eyes each morning? To share breakfast and steal some kisses? To cuddle up together in front of a fire while they each read their own books?

Nicky chuckled again as he straightened Blaine's clothes and grabbed a comb from the shelf to tidy his hair. Finally, he stepped back, giving Blaine a satisfied once over. "There, all signs of me are gone."

"Thank you, Nicky." Blaine said softly, not sure if he meant for making him presentable again or for the whole tryst. It had been unexpected and wonderful. A fantasy that would carry him through many lonely nights.

With a soft kiss goodbye, Nicky pushed Blaine towards the exit. He felt mostly sober now, and as he stepped from the curtain back into the public hallway, the music and revelry just seemed like too much.

At the table, he told his father he wasn't feeling well and he'd take a cab back to their hotel. Everyone bugged him that he couldn't hold his liquor and he let it be a convenient excuse for his early departure.

* * *

At the hotel, he was glad to have quiet time to himself, away from his father. They had been away from New York for over a month now, and he was relieved they were heading back next week. He'd be happy to be back in his own office, doing his own work, and away from the constant scrutiny of Charles Anderson.

It was strange being with his father so much during this business trip. Growing up, he had been in an all boys boarding school and in a dorm during university. But since he graduated, he had been working at his father's hotel. He was learning it from the ground up, taking on more and more responsibilities. Usually, he only saw his father in meetings at work, and at dinnertime. Always with people around them.

This trip, they had often dined and travelled alone, and they had gotten to know each other more. And Charles had not been reserved about sharing his plans for the business. The hotel was doing well, and he wanted to buy another one in Boston in a few years, wanted to have Blaine ready to run it. So, he had a few years to learn the business, and then he would be running his own. It was a daunting prospect, but he had taken well to the work and felt he could get there. But there was one aspect to his father's plan that had given him sleepless nights.

By the time Blaine would take over this future hotel, he was expected to have a wife at his side.

A wife. Blaine sighed. He knew it was normal, expected. But it was terrifying. He had hardly been around women or girls. He had grown up with a much older brother, who had moved away to California to make his own fortunes when Blaine was a teen. Blaine had been to an all-boys prep school and the university was mostly men. When friends dragged him out to parties to meet women, he found a quiet corner and watched them chat and flirt. He felt alien and alone. Not part of that world at all.

Somehow, in the next few years, he needed to learn the business well enough to run one himself, and meet and marry his life partner. How the hell could he do this?

Well, he just needed to find a woman who could fit the role. Someone who wouldn't mind a distant husband as long as she had a comfortable lifestyle. Someone who would put up with having just enough marital 'relations' to have a heir and a spare, before he would vacate her bed completely.

Blaine's thoughts flashed back to Nicky's amazing blue eyes. If only he lived in New York, so Blaine could see him again, touch him again. He let fantasies flow, ideas of going out to restaurants and theatres together, as a couple. Just enjoying each other's company. Maybe even setting him up in a nice place that Blaine could come visit a few times a week. Stolen moments of happiness in a life of duty and expectation.

* * *

Breathing a sigh of relief as the train pulled into the station, Blaine gathered up his briefcase. Soon they would be on the ship, heading back to New York. In about a week, he'd be finally back in his own bed.

He'd heard this new ocean liner was luxurious and huge. He could use the excuse of exploring thoroughly to be away from his father as much as possible. Aside from meals, he would likely have a lot of time to himself.

Charles had hinted that some very eligible young women would be on board, so he would have to play at being the charming young businessman around them over meals. But he was used to that role. Used to being polite, feigning interest when they prattled on about Parisian fashion or gossiped about the love lives of their peers.

Quite quickly, they were at the Southhampton docks, and Blaine looked up in wonder at the huge ship. Her name clearly suited her, as she was the biggest ship Blaine would have ever been on.

Already, attentive stewards from the ship were talking with his father's man, arranging for their baggage to be loaded.

Another steward stood nearby, attentive and perfectly presented in a dark uniform. "Please, sirs. If you will follow me, I will get you settled in your first class suites and order some tea and refreshments. The ship will be sailing at noon."

Travelling first class on this fantastic ship's maiden voyage was going to be an exciting end to this Europe trip. Blaine smiled broadly as he stepped onto the gangway, following the steward onto the RMS Titanic.

* * *

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

-A/N:

-I've never written a period piece before and I'm looking forward to the research and will endeavour to make it as historically accurate as I can. Please let me know if I make any errors & I'll fix them.

-This fic is not an adaptation of the movie. There will be some similarities, but it will be Blaine and Kurt's love story.

-The Title is from Ron Pope's song of the same name.

-The music hall scene takes place in Paris. It was inspired by the "Shady Lady From Seville" scene from the musical 'Victor Victoria'.

-The song "You Made Me Love You" was written by James V. Monaco, the lyrics by Joseph McCarthy. The song was recorded by Al Jolson in 1913, so please forgive my artistic license by using it in 1912.


	2. Thursday Night

There was a knock on the door, and Blaine paused in tying his bow tie to answer it. It was his father, so he stepped away from the door to let him in as he returned to the mirror to finish his task.

"Really, Blaine. I could arrange for Jacobs to assist you with that after he's dressed me. It would be no trouble at all." The tone of slight disapproval was there in Charles' comment.

Finishing the bow tie, Blaine patted it with satisfaction and turned to face the older man. "Father, we've discussed this before. I'm used to taking care of myself. I look alright, don't I?" He gave a small grin as he waved down at his suit.

Jacobs had already unpacked and ironed the clothes Blaine would need for the voyage, and Blaine was perfectly capable of shaving himself and styling his own hair.

He preferred having the suite to himself than having servants underfoot. Without his father's knowledge, he'd slipped Jacobs a few banknotes to agree to visit the chamber only after lunch, when Blaine was out and about, to tidy up and take care of Blaine's clothes.

Charles gave him a cursory once-over and nodded with a huff, turning on his heel to look around the room. "Your room is slightly smaller than mine."

Shrugging on his suit jacket, Blaine smoothed down the lapels. "Perhaps, but it's the biggest suite I've ever had on a liner. And it's so new and beautiful."

He still couldn't get over the luxurious surroundings. The bed was a double with curtains tied back at the corners. There was a finely upholstered chaise lounge, and a round table with two chairs in dark walnut. Brocade wallpaper covered the walls above the wood panelling. The floors were of that new material, linoleum, richly patterned to look like a Persian rug. Electric lighting fixtures kept it bright even when it was a rainy day like today.

"I still don't see why our suites are so far apart though." Charles grumbled as he strode to the door, and out into the hallway.

Blaine locked the door behind him, pocketing the key. "I heard Captain Smith discussing it last night at dinner with Mrs. Brown. Apparently there has been a coal strike lately and White Star had to take coal from their other ships to run Titanic, and many passengers from the ported liners were moved here." He kept his face neutral, but he was secretly glad to be a floor away.

Charles pushed the button on the first class elevators. "That is interesting, Blaine, but I want you to focus your attention on the young unmarried women at dinner tonight, instead of crazy nouveau riche women and silver-bearded men. I hear Miss Wilde will be at the restaurant tonight, so please be pleasant."

Blaine nodded, not wanting to verbally commit to anything involving Miss Wilde. Out of all the women he'd met so far on the ship, she terrified him the most.

As they entered the restaurant, they were quickly greeted and led to their table near the window. The sun was beginning to lower on the horizon, the sunbeams more golden in hue at this time of day.

Charles read over the menu and looked impressed. "They said in the newspaper that they were trying to make this restaurant feel like a sidewalk cafe in Paris, and I'd say it looks quite good. I hope the food measures up."

The server approached and Blaine could hear his father discussing the wine list as he struggled to read the menu. He had never been that good in French class.

"Um, excuse me, could I ask you about the menu?" Blaine asked quickly before the server could rush away.

The server paused and turned around, and Blaine froze in shock. _Nicky. Here. Working in a French restaurant on the same ocean liner he was travelling on._

Luckily his father was reading the menu and didn't notice Blaine's reaction. Nicky gave him a warning glance, and a slight shake to his head, stepping close to his side.

" _Oui, Monsieur._ What can I help you with?" His tone was calm and professional. His face didn't betray anything out of the ordinary. Didn't show any signs of being shocked or flustered at seeing Blaine here. Didn't he remember? Didn't he care?

Blaine swallowed hard, trying to calm his thumping heartbeat and fast breathing. He pointed to an item on the menu, far too affected by Nicky's closeness. "Um, the dish is veal with foie gras, yes?" He wasn't sure if what he'd said made sense or not.

Nicky seemed to be holding back a laugh, his blue eyes gleaming. "Ah, _Oui, Monsieur_. But may I be so bold as to suggest the _magret de canard roti au thym et miel?_ "

At Blaine's lost look at Nicky's fast French, he smiled slightly and bowed his head. "Duck roasted with thyme and honey, in a red wine sauce."

"Um, yes, I'll have that." If only he could order Nicky with a side of honey and wine.

Charles closed his menu with a snap. "That sounds delicious. I will get that also."

Blaine's breath caught in his throat as Nicky nodded at Charles, and turned to walk away from their table. He let it out when he saw no sign of recognition on his father's face. Nicky was just another servant to him. He was always polite to them, but rarely dealt with them besides giving orders. Jacobs was the exception.

A million questions were whirling around Blaine's head, making it hard to keep up his side of the conversation with his father. But he had to act normal, keep the facade in place. He didn't want to do anything that would make his father take a closer look at their server.

When his father was chatting with another passenger, Nicky passed Blaine a note, clearing away some dishes to cover his actions. Discretely, Blaine opened it with shaking fingers on his lap. The small scrap of paper only had a time and a place on it.

And when Nicky brought by their coffee and chocolate eclairs, Blaine was able to catch his gaze and give a small nod. Yes, he would be there.

* * *

The boat deck was vacant this time of night, and a little windy. The canvas covers on the large lifeboats flapped against the wood with each gust.

Pacing around, Blaine felt tense, and kept glancing towards the stairway. Would Nicky show up? How would he explain everything?

Fishing his pocket watch out of his vest pocket, Blaine could see it was just turning 9:35 now. He was late.

Shoulders slumping, Blaine wondered how much longer he should stay up here. Should he go now, and look for Nicky at the cafe tomorrow?

"Sir, can I offer you a blanket? You look chilled." A crisp, British voice said from behind him and Blaine turned to shoo the steward away. But he was surprised to find Nicky there, giving him a devious grin.

"You, you...," Blaine started and couldn't resist taking Nicky in his arms for a tight hug, feeling overwhelmed with emotions.

Nicky let out a surprised oomph at the tightness of the hug, and then wrapped his arms around Blaine to return it, his hold just as tight.

Pulling back, Blaine just took in Nicky's face, still in awe that he was here, really here. Still so beautiful, his eyes seeming to glow in his expressive face. Blaine leaned closer, needing to feel those lips again.

But Nicky stepped back, looking around to see if anyone was near. "Be careful, Blaine. Anyone could see us." And taking his arm, Nicky tugged him along the promenade.

There was a less well lit area, and Nicky pulled him towards it, lifting the canvas from the edge of a lifeboat. "Crawl in here. We'll be out of sight."

Chuckling to himself, Blaine crawled into the dark space, feeling the wooden benches inside and crouching near one. Soon Nicky was in the boat too, and flipping the cover back in place.

"Hold on, I brought a blanket." Nicky's voice seemed loud in the dark space, and Blaine tried to locate him with it, without success.

He jumped when he felt Nicky's hand on his arm. "Shhhh... It's just me. I've laid the blanket down on the bottom of the boat. We can lie down there, OK?"

Blaine nodded, and realized it was too dark for Nicky to see it. "Um, yes. Can you show me where?"

It took a bit of fumbling and a few bit-back laughs, but they were soon lying on their sides on the blanket. The space between the benches was tight, and Blaine's heart thumped at having Nicky so close, knees brushing. It reminded Blaine a little of a camping holiday he took with friends when he was a boy, crowded together under a canvas tent.

But the questions couldn't be held back anymore. "Nicky, please tell me... How did you come to be working here? How do you know my name? Why does your accent keep changing? Are you French or British?"

He would have gone on, but the sound of Nicky chuckling stopped him.

"So many questions, my dear. Don't I even get a hello kiss before I face your interrogation?" Nicky's voice was a sultry french-accented drawl, and Blaine could picture the adorable little smirk that would be accompanying it.

With a growl, Blaine leaned closer until they bumped noses, and then his lips were finally on Nicky's, as hot and tempting as ever. In moments they were breathless, pressing together the full length of their bodies, and Nicky was rocking his hips against Blaine's with a pleased little moan that was almost Blaine's undoing.

"No, no, wait...stop. You are far too distracting. I can hardly think around you." Blaine gasped as he pulled back, trying to compose himself.

Nicky practically purred. "This is a good thing, yes? How good we are together?" He kissed along Blaine's neck, sending goosebumps along his skin.

Blaine let out a little huff. "It is an incredible thing, Nicky. You are an incredible man. But I want to know more about you. I want more than just...ah...bodies..."

Sighing, Nicky leaned away from Blaine, and seemed to be considering what Blaine had said. Had he gone too far? Asked for too much?

Finally, Nicky reached out and slid his hand along Blaine's lapel. There was a tiny bit of light coming in from the corner of the canvas they had left open, and Blaine's eyes had adjusted to the dim light.

Nicky's expression seemed to be playful once again. "OK, my curious cat, I will make a deal with you. You get to ask one question for every kiss you give me."

A wide, raunchy grin spread over Blaine's face. "Hmmmm, well, you better get prepared for a thousand kisses, because I have a thousand questions for you."

Nicky's eyes were pure flirt. "Only a thousand?" He pouted his lower lip out slightly.

"Make it a million then." Blaine chuckled as he leaned close to taste that irresistible mouth. Such sass.

A few heated moments later, Blaine pulled back. "That was ten questions' worth at least." He tried to catch his breath, and moved Nicky's hand away from where he was playing with Blaine's shirt button.

"Hmmmm, I'd say seven. Go on, ask away." Nicky laid back, blinking slowly up at Blaine.

Rolling his eyes at Nicky's haggling, Blaine nodded. "OK, still the questions I asked before to start off. How did you come to be working here? How do you know my name? Why does your accent keep changing? Are you French or British?"

Pressing his lips together, Nicky seemed to consider the answers before replying. "I am here because I know the people who run the restaurant and they were short-staffed for servers who knew English and French. I know your name because I asked a co-worker who took your reservation. My accent changes because, as you have seen, I am a performer. I take on many roles. And I am neither French or British."

For every answer, ten more questions popped into Blaine's mind. It really may take a million kisses, a million questions, to truly know this man. Not that he minded at all.

"What nationality are you, then?" Blaine scrutinized Nicky's features closely, trying to guess. He was too fair to be Italian or Greek. His dark hair made Nordic countries less of a possibility.

Nicky smiled. "I'm American." His voice dropped, and he spoke with a perfect Texan drawl. And then he burst out laughing at Blaine's shocked expression.

"Come on, Nicky. You have to answer the questions truthfully." Blaine tried to pin Nicky with his managerial, no nonsense look.

Smirking a little still, Nicky shook his head. "I really am American. From Lima, Ohio, which no one has ever heard of." Gone was the Texan accent, and there was a soft Midwestern flavour to his words. "See, I'm not so exotic and mysterious now, am I? Just some boring, small town hick."

"Yeah, because you find so many small town hicks singing in sequinned gowns on a Paris stage." Blaine leaned closer, pressing light kisses to Nicky's lips, teasing. "You couldn't be boring even if you tried."

Nicky arched an eyebrow. "Hmmmm...we'll see. Two questions left."

"But I just kissed you five more times at least!" Blaine objected.

Scoffing, Nicky shifted on the blanket. "Pecks don't count, Anderson. Now hurry up, as I better get back to my bunk soon."

"OK, OK...are you going to stay in America when we get to New York, or are you going back to Europe?" Blaine needed to know how much time he had. Was it just this week? Or could it go on longer?

Nicky's eyes were on Blaine's lips, and he felt very tempted to kiss him another ten questions' worth. But he held back, wanting the answer so badly.

"I'm going to stay in the US." Nicky said softly, looking slightly vulnerable. "Last question of the night now, Blaine. I'm feeling a bit claustrophobic in here."

"Yes, OK...," Blaine paused, knowing this was the most important question. "May I see you again tomorrow?"

Nicky's eyes warmed under Blaine's gaze, and he nodded.

Blaine couldn't resist kissing him deeply then, taking him tight into his arms. This wasn't going to just be a quick, frantic episode. This was getting to know each other. This was having some time. This was talking, kissing, teasing, sharing.

And Blaine's lonely heart was going to soak up every precious moment.

Nicky pulled back, just as breathless and aroused as Blaine was. But he just stared at Blaine for a full minute, just taking him in.

"I'm going to think about tonight, when I'm back in my bed. I'm going to think about your huge hazel eyes." He reached out a hand and traced his fingertips over Blaine's lips. "Going to think about these lips, the way your kisses make me feel dizzy." His hand went down to Blaine's chest. "I'm going to picture unbuttoning your shirt, and kissing along your skin."

Blaine moaned softly, shifting on the blanket. He had been so hard, for so, so long. Kissing Nicky and now hearing him talk like this...it was almost too much to take.

But Nicky wasn't done yet. His hand slid lower, cupping Blaine's erection lightly. He groaned harshly, arching up into his touch, wanting more.

"And I'm definitely going to be thinking about this. How hard and perfect you feel in my hand, how sexy you sound, lost in your pleasure." He squeezed a little, and Blaine moaned, knowing he was close.

But Nicky moved his hand away. "Are you going to think about me when you are in your bed, Blaine?"

Opening his eyes, Blaine took in Nicky in the dim light. Eyes shining, lips kiss-swollen, so beautiful, tempting and perfect. "Yes, yes, about you, every part of you..."

"Good." Nicky seemed satisfied with the answer. "And when you find your release, thinking about me, I want you to call out my name. Can you do that for me?"

Blaine was at the point of agreeing to doing anything this beguiling creature suggested at this point, he was so far gone. He nodded.

Nodding in satisfaction, Nicky crawled out of the lifeboat, and stood nearby to help Blaine out with his wobbly legs. He quickly straightened his own clothes, and turned an assessing eye over Blaine, fixing a turned up collar and smoothing the back of his hair.

With a quick look around, Nicky dropped a quick kiss on Blaine's lips and hugged him tight, his mouth near Blaine's ear. "I'll send you a message about tomorrow. And just so you know, for later tonight, my name is Kurt."

And with that stunning revelation, he strode quickly away, disappearing around a corner before Blaine could call him back.

* * *

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N:

-A note about future chapters: Once the ship is sinking, I will be skipping to the aftermath. I won't be writing any detailed descriptions of anyone dying or the ship breaking up.

-Cafe Parisian was a French restaurant for first-class passengers only, designed to look like a sidewalk cafe in Paris. It had rattan furniture, trellis with climbing ivy and large windows for diners to view the ocean.

-Titanic boasted that they used the most innovative products, most advance technology and highest standards in the fixtures, fittings and decorations. Linoleum, one of the newest floor coverings, was used in the grand dining hall and in the staterooms. Every room had running water and electric lights, including 3rd class accommodation, which was unusual for ocean liners at the time.

-Captain Edward J. Smith (62 yrs old), was a navy reserve officer and had served as commanding officer for White Star Line vessels for 25 years, including the successful maiden voyage of Titanic's sister ship, The Olympic, in June 1911.

-Mrs. Brown is known as The Unsinkable Molly Brown (45 yrs old on Titanic) who went from humble beginnings to great wealth barely twenty years before the Titanic voyage, due to her husband's mining interests.


	3. Friday Day

Kurt held on tight, his hands on a metal bar and his thighs clenched around the machine as it lurched forwards and backwards. Although it was quite new, it whirled and clanked loudly like each motion might be it's last.

Rolling his eyes and trying not to laugh out loud, Kurt looked over at Blaine. "Is this what riding a camel is like in reality? I pictured something much more...regal. Less noisy."

Blaine chuckled softly at Kurt's comment, looking over at Thomas, the trainer, to ensure he hadn't heard the comment about his precious machine. He was on a similar contraption, except his had stirrups and lurched up and down. Blaine tried to anticipate the machine's motions, raising and lowering his body off the saddle, posting to the trot gait. "How am I supposed to know what riding a camel is like? From the little you've deigned to tell me about yourself, I'd wager there's a better chance you've ridden one than I have."

Blaine looked over to Kurt, wanting to see his reaction to the comment, but Kurt's eyes were firmly trained on Blaine's hips. Watching as his strong thighs raised and lowered his body rhythmically, his gaze appreciative.

The look made Blaine lose his pacing, and he bumped awkwardly against the saddle, almost losing his balance. By the time he'd regained his seat, Kurt's hot look was replaced with the amused one he so often wore.

"Thomas, would you mind stopping the machine now? I think I've had enough of the electric horse." Blaine smirked back at Kurt, who was now sitting with one foot tucked under the opposite knee, looking quite at ease on his lurching electric camel.

Once Thomas had stopped the machine, Blaine dismounted. Kurt followed suit, slipping off his moving machine gracefully to stand beside Blaine.

"Show-off." Blaine grumbled under his breath, and smiled when he heard Kurt's chuckle. "What else would you like to try out in here?"

Kurt's grey-blue eyes surveyed the large gym, taking in the stationary bicycles, the weights, medicine balls and other equipment. They landed on the rowing machine bolted to the center of the floor. He arched an eyebrow Blaine's way.

Nodding, Blaine walked over and got in position, strapping his feet onto the foot plate, and took hold of his set of oars. Kurt settled onto the seat in front of him, both facing forward like they were really crewing a sculling boat like Blaine had in university. He could tell that Kurt wasn't familiar with the equipment though, and it was interesting to watch as he quickly worked it out and was ready to go.

Following Kurt's rhythm, Blaine bent his legs and pushed his hands forward and outward, and then pushed back with his legs as he pulled his hands towards his stomach. Blaine fell easily into the old familiar pattern, and it was almost hypnotic.

But then he raised his eyes to watch Kurt as he rowed. His technique was not perfect, but the motions showed his body well. The curve of his back when he bent over his legs, the muscles of his back and arms as he pushed back. The slimness of his waist and the way his ass shifted on the seat with the repetitive motions. So beautiful and strong.

Thomas came over eventually, watching their technique and making a few suggestions. "But I'm sorry, lads. You will have to leave shortly. I open for the ladies at 10:00 am."

"Thank you for letting us in early, Tom." Kurt said as he pulled his feet free of the straps and grabbed a towel to rub over his face.

Grinning, Thomas slapped Kurt on the back and walked away, getting the gym ready for his clientele.

Walking towards the men's change room, Blaine put a towel over his neck. "How did you convince him to let us in here before it opens? And isn't it supposed to only be for 1st class passengers?" He had been quite surprised when a steward had knocked on his door at 8:30 am and passed him Kurt's note, asking Blaine to meet him at the gym at 9:00 am.

Smirking, Kurt held the change room door open for Blaine to pass through, and followed him in. "He was spending some time at the restaurant the first night when we weren't too busy, and we got chatting about food preferences. It turns out he has quite the sweet tooth, so I got one of the cooks to make his favorite dessert for him the next day."

"Funny that such a health-conscious man likes desserts that much. What's his favorite?" Blaine took off the whites the gym supplied, and slipped his own pants back on.

Kurt flashed Blaine a little smirk as he pulled on his own pants. "Spotted Dick. He says he can't get enough of it."

Rolling his eyes, Blaine stepped closer to Kurt. "I know the feeling…but I prefer it without spots, thank you very much."

Nudging Blaine out of the way, Kurt reached for his shirt. "It's a British pudding, full of dried fruit. Served with a custard sauce."

Wearing just his pants, an undershirt and the unbuttoned shirt, Kurt was far too tempting. Blaine stepped into his space, leaning closer to capture his mouth in a slow kiss. Kurt was still warm from their gym activities, smelling a bit of sweat and that special scent that was just Kurt. Blaine just wanted more. Wanted to touch and taste and explore. Wanted more than a glimpse of his body while he dressed. Wanted time to do it right.

Kurt broke away from their kiss. "Blaine, anyone could walk in here."

"But only ladies are allowed in the gym until noon. We're safe." His mouth travelled down Kurt's neck, and he flicked out his tongue to taste his warm skin, moaning at the flavor.

Unbidden, a yawn took him, pulling him back from Kurt.

"Am I boring you, Blaine?" Kurt laughed, buttoning up his shirt, much to Blaine's dismay.

Pouting slightly, Blaine pulled on his own shirt, knowing that Thomas would likely check on them soon if they didn't leave. "Well, I wasn't expecting to be out of bed so early today, and then to be put through the paces." Plus, he'd had a rather late night, running every moment with Kurt through his mind again and again. And had ended up groaning out Kurt's name several times in the darkness of his chamber.

Kurt scoffed. "Poor little rich boy can't keep up. OK, I'll tone things down for you when I make plans in the future. Nothing too strenuous. Nothing too early in the day."

Blaine glared at Kurt playfully. "I can take anything you can dish out, Kurt."

"Oh please. You have always been in your pampered little bubble, travelling around the world with your every need taken care of for you. I'm a little surprised you aren't asking for my help to dress." Kurt teased as he walked over to the mirror with his comb, putting everything back in place.

Knowing Kurt was trying to get a rise out of Blaine didn't stop him from acknowledging to himself that there was a grain of truth to what Kurt was saying. What did he know about the real world?

Taking Kurt's hand, Blaine gave it a squeeze as he held his gaze. "Show me then, Kurt. Show me your world, your side of things."

Raising his eyebrows in surprise at first, Kurt seemed to look closely at Blaine, trying to judge if he really wanted this. And after a moment, he nodded in agreement. "OK, Anderson. You're on. Can you meet me tonight after work?"

Blaine nodded, excited to find out what Kurt was already planning. He would have to have a nap this afternoon, make sure he was well rested and alert for later on.

* * *

"Young people today have no sense of decorum." Mrs. Wilde tsked disapprovingly, stirring her cup of tea. "Even on this ship, Mrs. Prescott heard some uncouth youth screaming 'I'm the King of the World' at the top of his lungs as we went to sea."

The older woman had pale blond hair and pale blue eyes that seemed a little cold to Blaine. She was wearing a navy dress with a matching hat, tuffs of dyed ostrich feathers on the brim bobbing slightly as she shook her head.

"Oh Mother, I wish you would lighten up. This is 1912, not 1812." Her daughter, Miss Kitty Wilde placed a hand on her arm, shaking her head in disagreement. "Society is relaxing a lot of those ridiculous, stiff dictates."

Blaine watched the interchange as he sipped his tea, surprised that he agreed with Miss Wilde's statement and impressed she spoke up about her opinion. Not many young women would in mixed company.

Miss Wilde was quite lovely, her blond hair perfectly styled in curls, pinned into an elaborate updo. Her day dress was a light lilac colour that complimented her fair complexion and brought out her intelligent hazel eyes. Blaine liked that she was petite, a few inches shorter than he was, but still did not seem shy or frail. She was confident and carried herself well.

Charles served himself a slice of cake, and chuckled. "I'm afraid I agree with your mother, Miss Wilde. We need to preserve the old ways, and behave according to our station in life. If we relax that, what's to stop a footman or a steward from being overly friendly with you?"

Miss Wilde chuckled along with his comment. The idea of the beautiful heiress demeaning herself by getting involved with a penniless servant was ludicrous.

As they chatted on over their tea, Blaine smiled and contributed the odd comment, but his thoughts were on Kurt, like they had been so often since that first incredible night in Paris. What would happen if he blurted out to his father and these ladies that he was getting 'overly familiar' with a lowly server? How shocked would they be if he said he tempted to give up everything to be with Kurt?

But instead he played his role of dutiful son. Smiled and was his charming best to avoid a scolding later from his father.

Over the course of the late afternoon tea, he realized Miss Wilde shared many of his opinions and she wasn't as scary as he had thought. Could he let things develop between them? Eventually marry her to please his father? Would it be fair to Miss Wilde to ask her to be part of a loveless marriage? Was it fair to him?

"That went quite well." Charles chortled, as they walked back to their cabins afterwards. "I think we should ask to dine with them at lunch tomorrow. I'll occupy Mrs. Wilde's attention while you engage Miss Wilde in a private conversation. I want you two to get to know each other more."

Internally, Blaine squirmed at the thought, but he nodded dutifully. "Yes, Father." And he soon escaped to his own quarters.

Flopping down on the bed, he smiled to himself thinking about Kurt. What did he have in mind for tonight, to prove that Blaine couldn't handle the 'real' world? Blaine was fit and intelligent, and he felt reasonably sure he could handle most things that came his way.

Pulling out a piece of paper, Blaine started writing down questions he had about Kurt, things he would happily earn with dozens of deep kisses. Would they find a way to be alone to share them? Blaine's cabin was a risk, as Jacobs or his Father could stop by without notice. And how would he get Kurt there without arousing attention? A third class passenger wasn't allowed near the first class cabins.

They had to find a way. They must. The more he was around Kurt, the more he wanted him, needed him. That quick date in the gym this morning had only been a tease, making Blaine want more, more, more.

He'd never felt like this before. Yes, he wanted to kiss and touch and sink into a sea of pleasure with Kurt, but he would almost be content just to hold Kurt's hand and cuddle against his side as he talked. Just being near him, in his space, in contact. Hearing him talking about anything. He loved the way Kurt teased him and was so playful. Loved hearing his stories, learning more about his past and trying to figure out what made Kurt so fascinating.

Only five hours, ten minutes until he would see him again. Blaine got off the bed and paced restlessly around the room. It was no use. He was a ball of energy, too excited to keep calm.

Leaving the suite, Blaine headed down to the G deck in the elevator. Perhaps a hard, fast game of squash would help settle him down.

* * *

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

-A/N: Sorry this is a shorter chapter, but the next one will be a long, fun one. :)

-The gym on the Titanic was on the top level (boat deck) and was run by Thomas McCawley. It featured an electric horse and an electric camel, stationary bicycles, a rowing machine, and other equipment. It was open 9-12 for ladies (I changed this slightly in the story), 1-3pm for children and 2-6pm for men.

-The squash court was located on the G deck (near the bottom of the ship), and there was an attendant who supplied racquets and balls, and could act as an opponent if necessary.

*** I'm getting people asking if this will be a sad fic, if Kurt & Blaine will die or not, etc. Please note, I like reading/writing happy fics too, not someone who wants to dwell in angst or sadness. Not my style. I mentioned before that when the ship starts to sink, I will do a time jump to the aftermath, so there will not be any detailed descriptions about anyone's death or the ship sinking. I don't want to spoil the story for any readers, so email me (see my profile for the email) and I'll tell you as much as you want to know, and you can decide if you want to read on or not.


	4. Friday Evening

Blaine's heart was pounding with excitement as he tapped on the door. It had taken some time to find the room in the numerous hallways of the ship, and he'd gotten a few looks, feeling a little out of place.

The door opened, and Kurt gave him a wide, happy smile before dragging him into the tiny cabin and shutting the door.

A quick glance around showed they were alone, at last, and Blaine swooped closer to capture Kurt's lips. Like the other times, their kisses were hungry and deep, and Blaine felt a jolt of excitement when Kurt pushed him back against the door.

Kurt's mouth had Blaine moaning loudly, as he kissed and nibbled down his neck, rocking his body against Blaine's. He felt surrounded by Kurt, totally at his mercy. Never before had he been so aware of Kurt's extra few inches of height, and the strength of his body. It was such a masculine energy, being pinned against a door, Kurt's aroused body pressed against him so firmly. Desire crashed over Blaine like a tidal wave, and he was helpless against the elemental force of it. Blaine let out a whimper, tipping his head back in total surrender. Wanting everything. Anything.

 _Yes yes yes_ …Blaine thought when Kurt's hands went to the fastening of his pants. With his lips kissing down Kurt's neck, Blaine returned the favor. It had been so long since Paris, and it was hard to hold back, not wanting things to be over before they even started.

Backing off slightly, Kurt looked down at Blaine, his eyes so dark with desire and need. Blaine was sure his own expression matched Kurt's, and when Kurt pulled him towards the narrow bunk bed, he went eagerly. Kicking his loosened pants off, his heart pounded as he watched Kurt strip off his pants in a quick motion, and crawled onto the bed beside Blaine.

Blaine tugged downwards on his shoulder until Kurt was half-lying across his chest on the narrow bed, and unbuttoning his shirt to kiss near his collarbone.

"Lie on top of me...," Blaine sighed, too aroused to play around, needing more contact.

Kurt didn't question the request, but moved a leg between Blaine's and settled their chests together. Blaine's arms were around him, his hands running down his back. The warm, delicious weight of this man he cared so much about was over him, and it felt so right. They got more comfortable with their closeness, sinking into each other, and Blaine hugged him tight.

A slight shift made them both moan, and Kurt pressed his hips down until they found the position with the best contact. Blaine arched upwards with Kurt's motions, breathless and closing his eyes to savor this sensation. It was almost too much, but far too delicious to ever stop. Grinding together, he could feel Kurt's warm pants against his neck, and knew he was getting just as close.

He felt Kurt tense against him, and then his head fell to Blaine's shoulder as he shuddered in his arms. It sent Blaine over the edge, and he groaned as he rutted against Kurt's hip, the orgasm seeming to go on for a breathless eternity.

Kurt's chuckle had Blaine turning his head to catch his gaze. They were both a bit breathless.

"Around you, I'm more like a fifteen year old boy than a man of five and twenty." Kurt's eyes were a sparkling blue, full of affection and sated desire.

Blaine let out a little snort, and the noise sent Kurt into peals of laughter that Blaine couldn't resist joining in on.

Nodding, Blaine smiled widely. "I'm the same. Half the reason I was so sleepy at the gym earlier was that I was thinking about you, just like you told me to, many times last night."

"Many times? Hmmmm…. I'm impressed." Kurt grinned, and leaned down to give Blaine a light kiss.

Blaine shrugged. "I find you very ….inspiring…" He waggled his thick triangular eyebrows at Kurt, trying to keep him giggling. The happy sound made his heart skip a beat.

Pulling back, Kurt scrunched up his face a little. "Well, next time we're feeling 'inspired' together, we should really take the time to undress fully."

He crawled out of the bed and went to the wardrobe. He pulled out a couple pairs of underwear and a washcloth. Dampening the washcloth, he passed it to Blaine.

Getting out of bed, Blaine cleaned up and slipped the clean underwear on, feeling a little naughty at the thought that he was wearing Kurt's underwear. It was a strangely intimate thing to do. And so was watching Kurt as he did the same actions on himself, in the close confines of this small room.

"So, is this your plan for the night? Because, if so, I heartedly approve of it. Come back to bed and let's cuddle some more." Blaine laid back on the bed and patted the space beside him.

Kurt scoffed lightly, shooting a teasing glance his way. "No, this is not my plan for the night. You distracted me. Now, get up and take off your clothes."

Those words sent a pang of desire right into Blaine's core, the urge that had been satisfied so recently perking up in interest. _More, already?_ And Blaine found himself out of the bed and pulling off his shirt in record time.

Chuckling, Kurt settled his hands on Blaine's upper arms. "Down, boy, down. It's not for that, not now anyways. But you need to change clothes for what we're doing tonight."

Blaine stood there in only his undershirt, Kurt's underwear and his socks. His shoes were over near the door where he must have kicked them off earlier.

Digging in the wardrobe again, Kurt emerged with some clothes over his arm and set them on the bed. "First off, let's take care of your hair."

Realizing it was probably sticking up everywhere from when they had been in bed, Blaine self-consciously tried smoothing it in place with his hands.

Kurt pushed past, going to the sink and turning on the water. "Don't worry about that, Blaine. We need to get the pomade out of your hair."

Blaine's eyebrows rose at that, but he was going along with everything Kurt suggested tonight, as much as he was able. He had worn pomade in his hair since becoming a teenager. He didn't even know what it would be like without the styling agent.

Leaning over the sink, Kurt rubbed something through Blaine's hair. "This is just some olive oil to break the pomade up." Once it was worked through, he urged Blaine under the warm water coming from the tap, rinsing it thoroughly. A rich, lathering shampoo was next, and Blaine sighed as Kurt's strong fingers massaged his scalp in firm circular motions. The scent reminded him of Kurt, and it was nice to have another piece of the puzzle that was this man.

After another thorough rinsing, Kurt toweled Blaine's hair until it was almost dry and combed it, his fingers playing through the strands. Blaine felt pampered and sighed in contentment at Kurt's touch and his nearness.

"OK, now let's get you in your costume for the night." Kurt smiled as he looked Blaine over assessingly, his mouth quirked up on one side slightly.

The fabrics Kurt passed him were of thicker, rougher material than he was used to, fabrics woven for durability rather than fashion. The pants were a little long, and Kurt knelt down to pin up the hems skillfully. The shirt was a little snug across the chest, but he doubted he'd rip a seam unless he moved his arms vigorously or something.

When Kurt nodded in satisfaction and pulled Blaine over to the vanity mirror, he couldn't get over the difference. He was in a bulky, brown tweed suit that seemed boxy over his frame. He looked heavier, larger. The biggest change was his hair though. Instead of slicked back close to his scalp, there was a puffy cloud of curls surrounding his head. It felt so messy and unruly, Blaine's hands immediately went up to try to smooth it down.

Chuckling, Kurt pulled his hands away. "Leave it, Blaine. I like it. You look natural."

"OK." Blaine shrugged. It was fun to play dress-up. Try being someone else for the night. He could easily slip into his own clothes and put pomade in his hair tomorrow.

Kurt fussed around with his own hair next, erasing the signs of their earlier dalliance, and then looked through his clothing and pulling out a few things.

"Do you have a book you've finished that I could borrow?" Kurt asked, out of the blue.

Blaine nodded his head. "Um, sure. I brought a few along for the trip."

Kurt smiled. "Would you be a dear and fetch it now from your room? There are a few things I'd like to get ready for us later, and it could take a little while."

The possibilities of that sent Blaine's mind whirling in anticipation, and he nodded in agreement, heading off in the direction of his room.

He didn't get very far though.

"You there! What are you doing in this part of the ship?" A stern looking steward rushed down the quiet hallway right towards Blaine, his glare already judging Blaine's clothing and hair, and finding him lacking.

It took Blaine aback. Never before had he been stared down this way, like he was a lowly cockroach that was about to be stomped by a large boot. "I, um, I...," he stammered, blinking fast as he tried to think of a clear answer.

If he said he was going to his own cabin, the steward wouldn't believe him. Trying to explain the truth would be futile.

"A gent in the smoking room gave me a shilling to fetch a book from his room. Look, he even lent me his key." Blaine pulled the key from his pocket, trying for his most honest expression.

The steward looked between the key and Blaine's face, weighing the truth of the words.

"Please sir, I shouldn't delay doing this. You can escort me if you want. Watch as I get the book and then leave the area." Blaine suggested, just wanting to get out of this awkward situation before the steward dragged him in front of Captain Smith or something. His father would surely hear about it if things went that far.

Finally, the steward nodded curtly, still keeping a close eye on Blaine as they walked down the hall, in case Blaine tried to make a break for it or something. It was so strange to be treated with such distrust, like he was already charged with a crime.

Blaine made a point of looking for the room number, acting like he'd never been there before. When he unlocked the door, he turned on the light.

"Um, the gent said it was called ' _Tom Jones'_ , just like my last name." Blaine mumbled as he pretended to scan the room, and then walked over to the writing desk. "Oh here it is, just as the man said." He picked up the thick book, and waved it towards to steward.

Exiting the room, he quickly locked up and bowed slightly to the steward, then walked away swiftly before he had a chance to say anything else. The steward trailed behind him, keeping a watchful eye, but once Blaine got to the stairs, he fell back.

Blaine's heart was pounding still when he went around a corner, and leaned against a wall. He was back in the 3rd class cabins area now and it was a relief to have people nod politely as they passed him, instead of eye him with distrust. Slowly, the adrenaline-fueled fight-or-flight response settled down, his heartbeat and breathing going back to normal and his hands unclenching. He walked slowly the rest of the way back to Kurt's cabin.

Once at Kurt's door, he took a few deep breaths, trying to put the incident behind him and focus on the present. He pinned a smile on his face and knocked softly. The door opened quickly, and Kurt looked him over thoroughly before pulling him inside.

"Something happened, didn't it? It took you far too long. Sit on the bed and tell me." Kurt's tone was no-nonsense, and he led Blaine back to the bunk.

Sinking down, Blaine let the façade slip, and passed Kurt the book. "It was really nothing, but…," he paused, not really sure how to describe it. "Um, a steward saw me and thought I didn't belong there. I had to let him watch as I got the book and then left the area again. I guess I looked like trouble or something." Blaine shrugged, trying to act like it wasn't a big deal.

Kurt nodded, and wrapped an arm around Blaine's shoulder. Blaine let his head tip to rest against Kurt's. After a minute or two, Kurt shifted away to help Blaine remove the suit jacket. Blaine realized that they were both in just pants and button-up shirts, with a couple buttons undone. Strangely, he wasn't grabbing Kurt like he normally would, being alone on a bed like this. He didn't question it when Kurt laid down and encouraged Blaine to lie in front of him, being the little spoon.

Feeling Kurt holding him, feeling warm and secure in his arms, Blaine finally felt the tightness in his belly loosen. He felt a bit drained, and was surprised when his eyelids were drooping. But he didn't want to waste a precious second of being alone with Kurt with sleeping.

Rolling over so they were face to face on the single bunk, almost nose to nose, Blaine leaned closer to lightly kiss Kurt. But before he could sink in and pursue that more, Blaine pulled back with a smile. "I think I earned at least twenty questions when we were in here earlier."

Kurt's eyebrows rose, and he gave a small smile. "I'd say fourteen questions, tops."

Blaine had been expecting the haggling, so he had slightly inflated his number of kisses. Fourteen was a pretty good number of questions to work with.

"How did you get so good at doing accents?" Blaine asked, picking up Kurt's hand to play with his long fingers.

Kurt gave a little shrug. "I'm a pretty good mimic, I guess. I've had to perform a lot of roles over the years, so whenever I'm around someone with an interesting accent or mannerism, I try to learn it so I can use it for a future character."

Blaine nodded. "Tell me about your family."

Shaking his head, Kurt laughed softly. "That's not a question."

Lifting Kurt's hand, Blaine laid a few soft kisses on the back of it. "Please, Kurt? I just want to get to know you better."

Perhaps he was swayed by the kisses, perhaps not. "Hmmmmm, OK. But 'tell me' requests count as five questions each."

Smiling, Blaine nodded.

"My family….hmmm…. Well, it's a little unusual in that my parents only had me. No brothers or sisters, although I asked for them all the time. And then my mother died when I was eight…" Kurt's eyes dipped down, his long eyelashes hiding his expressive eyes.

"Oh, that is so sad." Blaine stroked his fingers over the back of Kurt's hand in a comforting motion.

Kurt looked back at Blaine and gave a little nod. "It was the Russian Flu. It took her so quickly." His lips pressed together tightly, and Blaine could see it was a hard memory. "But my father and I got along alright, just the two of us. I am a pretty good cook and kept up the house OK. He works for Lima Machine Works, which builds locomotives."

Kurt fell quiet then, and Blaine wondered if that was five questions' worth of information. He was thinking what question to ask next when Kurt continued.

"He remarried before I left Lima, a lovely widow who had a son my age. We were very different, but grew to be true brothers by the time I'd finished school. But barely a year after I had left, he was in a tragic accident. I'm just glad my stepmother had my father there to comfort her. I was too far away to come to the funeral. I didn't even get my father's letter about it until a month later." Kurt said softly, his eyes not meeting Blaine's, but trained on his shirt collar.

Shifting closer, Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt, running his hands up and down his back. Kurt sunk into his embrace, and Blaine hugged him tighter. Even though it must have been many years ago, Blaine could tell Kurt was very affected by the memories. "I'm sure you would have been there if you could. Have you ever been back to visit his grave?"

He felt Kurt's nod against his chest. "Just once. I'm going to visit it again when I get back to see my father."

"Where did you go when you left Lima?" Blaine asked softly, hoping to bring up some happier memories. He wanted to get to know Kurt better, but was already surprised at all he had been through at a young age.

Leaning back, Kurt shifted to move a pillow to be under his head. He gave a small smile, which Blaine felt relieved to see. "Growing up, I liked school, and spent a lot of time at the machine works, tinkering around with any spare parts the men didn't need. But my mother took me to my first Vaudeville show when I was about six years old, and I was hooked since then. After my mom passed, my father took me almost every week, maybe trying to cheer me up at first or as a reward for all the work I did. I loved it all. The comedians, the acrobats, the contortionists, the actors, the animal acts. But my absolute favorite were the singers."

Blaine smiled as he saw the difference that came over Kurt as he talked about the shows. His passion for it shone so clearly from his animated face, and he looked more beautiful than ever. Blaine was tempted to steal a kiss or two, but he didn't want to interrupt Kurt when he was talking so freely.

Chuckling, Kurt rolled his eyes. "This is turning into a five-question answer too. Well, when I was old enough, I got a job at the Vaudeville theatre, sweeping, selling popcorn or tickets. Whatever they needed. My father didn't mind as long as I kept up with my studies. When he re-married, I had even more time to work down there. I got to know all the touring companies, and was as helpful as I could be. Sometimes they even let me be on stage in a small part as a reward."

He shrugged then. "I'm sure you can guess what happened after I finished school."

Blaine gave Kurt a small, delighted smile. "Ah, instead of running away to join the circus, you ran away and joined a touring Vaudeville company?"

Kurt nodded. "Although it's hardly 'running away' when you are an adult. It was fantastic. We were only a few nights in each town before we would move on. We were a big family, always together, supporting each other. I learned from everyone, soaking up every skills I could, working my ass off. I was in all sorts of different acts."

"But how did you end up in Paris as a female impersonator?" Blaine was beginning to piece things together, but it still seemed such a strange thing for a boy from Ohio to end up doing.

Rolling his eyes, Kurt gave a little sigh. "I think you used up all your questions long ago, but I'll give you credit for this one. After touring around the United States and parts of Canada for a few years, a close friend of mine was returning to England, and encouraged me to come with him. They called the theatres 'Music Halls' there, but it's basically the same type of thing. Entertainment for the whole family."

"After a couple years in England, I went to Paris and fell in love with the Montmartre area. It's full of artists of all types and very open in its attitudes. It has many theatres, like _Le Chat Noir_ and _Moulin Rouge_. It was good to live in one place after spending so many years travelling around. And the theatres there were a little more raunchy than Vaudeville or Music Hall, with the Can-Can Girls and all that, so my little female impressionist act was quite welcome."

Even with all Kurt had said, there were still dozens of questions Blaine wanted to ask. When had Kurt learned French? Why was he going back to the US for good? Where had he learned to kiss so well? 

* * *

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

-A/N: Finally some of Kurt's backstory many of you have been clamouring for. ;). Their date will continue in the next chapter.

-Fun fact time:

-Pomade: This is a greasy or waxy substance used to style hair, giving it a slick, shiny appearance. Original formulations from the 17th and 18th century contained a lot of bear fat or lard. Yummy. By Titanic times, it was usually petroleum jelly, beeswax and lard. _Brilliantine_ was a scented hair oil created by a French perfumer Edouard Pinaud and presented at the 1900 _Exposition Universelle_ in Paris, and is likely what Blaine would have used. Brylcreem wasn't invented until 1928.

 _-Tom Jones_ : The book is actually called " _The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling"_ by Henry Fielding, published 1749. It is on some lists as one of the ten best novels in the world. I would recommend the 1963 film version staring Albert Finney (sexy as fuck in this movie!) that won Best Picture that year. It is a great adventure comedy that is very true to the book.

-Russian Flu: A worldwide flu pandemic that killed about 1 million people. The main outbreak was in 1889-90, with recurrences during 1891-1894.

-Lima Machine Works: This company started in 1877 to make agricultural and sawmill equipment. The next year, they made the first Shay type locomotive ( a 'super-powered' type of steam engine) and did really well with it, eventually becoming Lima Locomotive and Machine Company in 1892.

-Vaudeville: Before movie theatres, Vaudeville was the main entertainment from 1880s to 1930s, in the US and Canada. A typical performance was a series of separate, unrelated acts grouped together on a common bill, like singers, dancers, comedians, magician, acrobats, one-act plays, and musicians. It was designed for the whole family, with language and content strictly policed by the managers. Vaudeville theatres were in every city and town, with touring groups travelling around large circuits of 36 cities or more.

-Music Hall: Basically the British version of Vaudeville, popular from 1850-1960. Variety entertainment with popular songs, comedy, specialty acts.

-Music Halls in Paris: _Folies-Bergere_ (1869), _Moulin Rouge_ (1889), _Alhambra_ (1866), Olympia (1893) were music halls that sprang up during the _Belle Epoque_ period (1872-1914) when many notable artists lived and worked in _Montmartre_ , with it's low rents and bohemian atmosphere. Artists included Renoir, Picasso, Van Gogh, Matisse, Degas, and Toulouse-Lautrec. The music hall performances could be a little racier there, like the Can-Can girls at _Moulin Rouge,_ or Josephine Baker, who rose to fame in 1925 for being almost nude in her erotic dancing act.


	5. Friday Night

Kurt seemed done with answering questions for now, and he got off the bed to straighten his clothes and hair, ensuring he looked well put together.

When he was satisfied, he took Blaine's arm and pulled him towards the door. "Ready to go?" Kurt smiled, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze.

Blaine nodded and took a deep fortifying breath before he stepped out into the hallway. Being with Kurt made it a little easier.

They walked through the many twisting hallways, Kurt frequently nodding in greeting to the other passengers. They got to a staircase that was simple metal with wooden railings, and climbed up two flights. Everything was new and clean, but there were no decorative flourishes or fine carved woodwork anywhere. It felt like an entirely different ship than the Titanic Blaine was used to.

Going through a double doorway, Kurt pulled Blaine into a large, crowded room. Looking around, he seemed to see people he knew as he walked with purpose in one direction. Blaine was busy taking in the scene.

The room was simple, just white painted walls with White Star Line travel posters displayed for a bit of color. The floor was linoleum with a decorative square pattern that softened the edges of the stark interior. Wooden benches encircled the walls and divided the room into a few sections, with wooden tables and chairs filling up the rest of the space.

But what was the most amazing about the room was the people. Talking, eating, drinking, dancing, singing. His ears picked up at least a dozen different languages being spoken as they worked through the crowd. Children ran around unsupervised, darting between the gatherings of people with ease. It was noisy and vibrant. Fantastic.

They reached their destination and Kurt sunk down on a chair, giving Blaine a challenging arch of his eyebrow. Blaine had said he could handle anything Kurt could dish out, and here was his chance to prove it.

There were no empty chairs at the table, so Blaine looked around and spotted one nearby. He walked over, and was able to convince the people at that table that they could spare it. Returning with the chair, he settled close to Kurt and looked at his friends with a smile.

"I'm Blaine." He said simply to the tall, dark-haired man to his right, holding out his hand to shake.

* * *

An hour later, Blaine was joking around with the group like he'd known them years, no reservations at all. The fact that he'd paid for a couple rounds of beer helped a lot.

But his eyes kept being drawn to the group of musicians on the other side of the hall, where a lot of people were gathered to sing, clap and dance along.

Leaving Kurt to his intense discussion about English cricket with a squeeze to his shoulder, Blaine walked closer to the musicians. It was obviously an impromptu gathering, just anyone with an instrument joining in on the fun. There was an accordion, a few fiddles, a bodhran drum, and an Irish whistle.

Blaine moved closer, ending up besides a man holding a guitar but looking a bit too drunk to play it. After a couple songs, he leaned closer and asked the man if he could borrow it for a little while. The man nodded and passed the instrument to Blaine, turning to some friends to talk.

It had been a long time since he'd played a guitar, and he tuned the instrument first, and then strummed a few chords to get the feel again. But the lively music was far too tempting and he joined in, matching his chords to the key to strum along with the songs he didn't know.

"Do you lads know The Mermaid?" He asked when there was a break between songs, and they were sipping their beer. A few of them nodded and began to play it, Blaine strumming along as he sang, happy to have many people gathered nearby joining in.

 _When I was a lad in a fishing town_

 _Me old man said to me:_

 _"You can spend your life, your jolly life_

 _Just sailing on the sea._

 _You can search the world for pretty girls_

 _Til your eyes are weak and dim,_

 _But don't go searching for a mermaid, son_

 _If you don't know how to swim"_

 _'Cause her hair was green as seaweed_

 _Her skin was blue and pale_

 _Her face it was a work of art,_

 _I loved that girl with all my heart_

 _But I only liked the upper part_

 _I did not like the tail_

 _I signed onto a sailing ship_

 _My very first day at sea_

 _I seen the Mermaid in the waves,_

 _Reaching out to me_

 _"Come live with me in the sea said she,_

 _Down on the ocean floor_

 _And I'll show you a million wonderous things_

 _You've never seen before_

 _So over I jumped and she pulled me down,_

 _Down to her seaweed bed_

 _On a pillow made of a tortoise-shell_

 _She placed beneath my head_

 _She fed me shrimp and caviar_

 _Upon a silver dish_

 _From her head to her waist it was just my taste_

 _But the rest of her was a fish_

As they sang the second chorus, Blaine noticed Kurt standing in the crowd, clapping and singing along, and they shared a small smile.

B _ut then one day, she swam away_

So I sang to the clams and the whales

"Oh, how I miss her seaweed hair

And the silver shine of her scales

But then her sister, she swam by

And set my heart awhirl

Cause her upper part was an ugly fish

But her bottom part was a girl

Yes her hair was green as seaweed

Her skin was blue and pale

Her legs they are a work of art,

I loved that girl with all my heart

And I don't give a damn about the upper part

Cause that's how I get my tail.

At the end of the song, he passed the guitar back to its owner, patting his back in thanks. Smiling and waving to the other musicians, he went back to Kurt's side.

"That was really great, Blaine. I had no idea you were so musical." Kurt leaned in close to his ear to be heard over the crowd.

Blaine used the excuse of the crowd to press the side of his body against Kurt's. "Thanks. I had an Irish nanny who taught me lots of songs. And when I went away to boarding school when I was twelve, she gave me an old second-hand guitar to keep me company."

Smiling and nodding, Kurt put a hand in Blaine's arm to pull him back to the table. A few people had left and new ones taken their place.

"Blaine, this is Denis Lennon." Kurt said as they settled into their chairs.

Holding a hand out across the table, Blaine shook Denis's hand.

Denis was quite young, maybe eighteen or twenty years old. "And this is Mary...Lennon." He nodded at the young woman beside him with a bit of a blush. They shared a quick look and a small smile.

Looking down at their hands, Blaine could see they were bare of rings. But the looks between the pair were like a newlywed couple would share. "So, are you brother and sister?"

Mary bit her lip and glanced towards Denis.

Denis smiled ruefully, and looking between Kurt and Blaine, before leaning closer to them. "Well, that's how it is on our tickets. But we are actually not related. Not yet. We're getting married in New York."

He reached a hand out to cover Mary's on the table, giving it a squeeze. The looks they shared were of pure, true love.

"Our parents don't approve of the match. So we ran away, in the middle of the night, with just enough money for tickets onboard." Mary dropped her head to Denis's shoulder.

"Aye, that is right romantic, but whatever you do, don't get married. At least not right away." Seamus chimed in, shaking his head. "I almost made that mistake, thinking I was so in love. But after living with her a few months, she showed her other side, and I was eager to get away from her."

Blaine turned towards Seamus, laughing. "But you're Irish! How could you 'get away' from a wife? Divorce isn't legal in your country."

Seamus smirked widely. "Luckily, we were only handfast. A year and a day passed, and we could choose to stay together or to part. She had her eye on another fella by then, and I happily sent her his way."

"But surely that isn't legal!" Blaine laughed, scandalized at the idea of living with someone as man and wife, and dissolving the relationship so casually at the end of a year.

Shrugging, Seamus looked bemused at Blaine's shock. "Aye, but in the smaller communities, we still follow the old ways at times. And if the lady agrees, who is to question it?" He took a sip of his beer, leaning forward. "Besides, it makes sense for a couple to really get to know each other, have a full year of the good and the bad together, before they decide to be with each other for all eternity, wouldn't you say?"

Denis was nodding along, seeming a little too interested in what Seamus was saying. Mary elbowed his side and gave him a bit of a glare. Denis dropped his gaze, taking a long sip of his beer.

Blaine couldn't argue with Seamus' point. He knew that right now, he was completely infatuated and could hardly think straight in Kurt's presence. There was such a surge of desire and confusing emotions swirling through his mind and his heart. A tempest that he was completely swept up and happily carried away in. But if he could truly and openly live with Kurt, would the buzz of feelings settle and dissipate in a few months?

He had had short romances in the past. Boys he had been mutually attracted to, and they would spend as much time together as they could get away with. And the strong emotions of the beginning changed over time, as they got to know each other more and realized they weren't as good a match as they had hoped. Or that the physical chemistry fizzled out after a few sessions once the novelty of a new partner wore off.

Glancing at Kurt, he couldn't imagine the intense feelings he already had after knowing him such a short time fading away. The more he learned about him, the more his feelings grew.

Shifting his chair a little closer to Kurt's, he moved his left leg to press against Kurt's, needing the contact. Kurt glanced his way, looking relaxed and happy. He really glowed being around people like this, joking around and sharing stories.

"Aye, but it must hurt like the dickens when the person you have been with so intimately walks away to be with someone else." Kurt said, taking on an accent so similar to Seamus' that everyone stopped talking to stare at Kurt. He simply smirked back at them.

Norbert clutched Kurt's arm, laughing at his impression. "That was incredible! Can you do other accents?"

"Ja. I can do one or two." Kurt said, lowering his voice to match Norbert's German tone.

Everyone roared at that, and Kurt was kept busy, as everyone demanded he do other accents. Russian, British, French, Italian all came easily to Kurt.

* * *

It was late when they finally left the gathering, feeling a little tired since the effects of the beer had worn off. But they were headed, together, back to Kurt's cabin, and Blaine was excited at the opportunity to be alone with Kurt again.

The room was still empty, and they sunk down on the bed with a sigh, kicking off their shoes.

But before Blaine could utter anything, Kurt got out of the bed and went to the sink. It was full of cold water, and Kurt pulled a wine bottle out before pulling the stopper. He expertly uncorked it and poured wine into some glasses.

Settling down beside Blaine, he passed him a glass and then a plate covered with a cloth napkin. As Kurt settled down beside him on the bed, leaning back against the wall, Blaine pulled back the napkin to reveal small slices of bread, cheese and apple.

The wine was cool and refreshing, a crisp light white that went well with the sharp cheese and crunchy sweet apple. They were both a bit peckish after the night in the General Room, and the food quickly disappeared. Kurt grabbed the last slice of apple.

Holding it teasingly in front of Blaine, he brought it closer to his mouth like he was going to feed it to him. But when Blaine opened his mouth, Kurt brought it to his own mouth to take a small bite. Again, he held the partial slice close to Blaine, but this time Blaine didn't open his mouth, even when Kurt dragged it against his lips.

Kurt's eyes were on Blaine's lips, occasionally flicking up to his eyes, and Blaine was finding it a little hard to catch his breath. Kurt, when he was close and playful like this, was far too irresistible. When Kurt leaned close, licking the traces of apple juice from Blaine's lips with little kitten licks, Blaine's control snapped. He groaned and kissed Kurt fully, his hands digging into the hair at the back of his head to keep him from moving away.

They were both breathless when Kurt pulled back. "Remember what I said earlier about the next time we get 'inspired'?" He chuckled as he got out of the bed, pulling Blaine with him. Kurt picked up the wine glasses and the dish, moving them back to the sink.

Blaine was a bit distracted, just watching Kurt's motions, when what he just said sunk in. Oh. Kurt had said they should get fully naked when they were next 'inspired'. And he could tell that Kurt knew when he realized it, had heard his little gasp in realization.

Smirking slightly, Kurt stood right in front of Blaine, and started undoing his shirt buttons. Blaine froze for a moment, and then he reached up to Kurt's buttons.

But Kurt shook his head. "Let me do this first." His voice was soft, and his eyes intent on the buttons, taking his time with each one.

Blaine remembered how last night, (was it only last night? It felt like so much had happened since then), Kurt had said how he would think about unbuttoning Blaine shirt, and kissing along his skin. Had Kurt really pictured exactly this, last night, while lying in his bed alone? Thought of this as he stroked himself? The thought of that made Blaine's breath speed up. It made such a simple act almost unbearably erotic.

Part of Blaine wanted to rip off his clothes and Kurt's, drag them both to the bed to crash together, jump into the fire of sensation until the passion was extinguished. But the other part of him loved this slow burn of desire, building, building. Licking along his skin and making it even more sensitive in its wake. This was the first time Kurt was going to fully undress him, and he was going to soak it all in. Every touch, every reaction, the way Kurt looked at him with such wonder and desire. Just as fascinated by Blaine as Blaine was by him.

By the time Kurt had Blaine down to Kurt's underwear, Blaine was more than ready to return the favor. Kurt, naked and beautiful before him, took Blaine's breath away. Kurt's smile was shaky when he pulled off Blaine's underwear and helped him step out of it.

"You are sublime, Blaine." Kurt said softly, pressing a little kiss to his bare shoulder.

Closing his eyes, Blaine was getting to the end of his endurance. "Please, please, Kurt. Touch me."

"Um, sure. But I need some more wine first." Kurt said, and Blaine could hear the bottle shifting from the sink. His eyes snapped open in surprise. _In the middle of this, Kurt was stopping for a drink?_

But he shouldn't have questioned it. Kurt was back in front of him, holding the half-full wine bottle in one hand and a towel in the other. Dropping the towel on the floor near Blaine's feet, Kurt had a glint in his eyes as he deliberately tipped the wine bottle until some of the cool fluid splashed over Blaine's chest and raced downwards.

"Oh my, I seemed to have spilled my wine all over you. I better clean it up." Kurt murmured, and then pounced on Blaine, licking, slurping and sucking up the wine from his skin. It was quite the sensation, feeling the cool wine on his hot skin, and then Kurt's wet, warm lips and tongue flicking over him. Spreading the towel out better, Kurt knelt and poured more wine over Blaine, chasing the trails of alcohol down his legs with his lips.

But all the teasing stopped when Kurt looked up to catch Blaine's eyes. Kneeling in front of Blaine, Kurt's mouth was so, so close that he could feel his warm exhalations against his aching cock. And he held the bottle right above. At any second, the cool liquid was going to wash over him, and then he'd feel Kurt's mouth… right there. Where he'd been wanting it for weeks. Decades. Eons. Blaine rested his hands on Kurt's shoulders, wanting it so much, but almost afraid his knees would give out.

Kurt only ended up pouring a small amount of wine over him before settling the almost empty bottle on the floor and running his mouth over Blaine, slurping and sucking with great enthusiasm. Blaine's moans and pants were practically constant. Kurt took him in deep, taking him over the edge with his skillful mouth.

Blaine slid limply to floor, guided by Kurt to lean against him. They laid back on the towel, Blaine curled up against his side.

Bending up one leg, Kurt wrapped his hand around his own erection and stroked quickly.

Blaine kissed his neck, and stroked over his bare chest. "Yes, Kurt. Let me see you. You look so beautiful." He could tell Kurt was very, very close, his body already tensing against Blaine. He wanted to see this, found it incredible intimate and erotic.

Kurt was glorious in his orgasm. His muscles tensing, his lips parting for the quick pants, his face tight and then relaxing into such bliss. His skin flushing a deep pink on his face, neck and chest, but quickly dissipating. The slight tremor through his body. The soft sound that was a mix between a moan and a whimper. Although intense, he was almost silent in his release.

Cuddling together as they cooled off, Blaine ran a hand up and down Kurt's arm. Kurt had probably had to share a room with one or more roommates during all his travels, and had probably learned to be so quiet from that, as a courtesy to the others.

Blaine looked at the other bunk bed, and then at the door in alarm. Did Kurt have a roommate now, a man who could come barging in at any time? "Um, Kurt, this may be a little late to ask this, but do you have a roommate?"

Kurt chuckled, and lifted his head from Blaine's chest to look at him. "Yes, but he's a stoker, and he's working until the wee hours of the morning. So, you'll have to leave pretty soon." Sitting up, Kurt stretched and yawned. He looked wonderfully rumpled.

Standing up, he stretched, totally unselfconscious in his nudity, and Blaine didn't mind at all. "Mmmmm. It's times like this I want a nice, hot, deep bath. Just a nice, long soak. But there are only two bathtubs for all the 3rd class."

Blaine got up too, and wet a washcloth at the sink and wiped down his chest. He smelled a little of wine still, not that he minded too much considering how it got there. "Well, there is a Turkish Bath on board. Can you meet me there tomorrow morning before you go into work?"

"Will they let me in?" Kurt asked, cleaning himself up a little as well.

Pulling on Kurt's underwear again, Blaine redressed in the rest of his own clothes. "I'll tell the attendant you are my guest, and if he seems to resist the idea, I'll slip him some money."

With a quick kiss at the door, Blaine slipped out. This time of night, even looking a little rumpled, his fine clothes gave him easy passage to his chamber. He slipped into his room, and soon crashed on his own large bed.

* * *

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

-The Mermaid song: I thought this was a traditional song that had been around so long that no one know it's exact origins, but it's from 1965, written by Shel Silverstein. I know it from the version done by the band Great Big Sea in 2005.

-Denis Lennon and Mary Mullin: A true Jack and Rose story, almost. "Mr Denis Lennon and Mary Mullin were actually eloping to the United States together, hence the shroud of secrecy and the reason why the two are listed as brother and sister.

The truth is Denis found a job as barman in the Mullin family's general store/pub in Clarinbridge, Co. Galway. He fell in love with Mary, however the upwardly mobile Mullin family forbade such a romance between a humble barman and their daughter.

The young couple, desperate and in love decided to elope to the States. Originally booked on the "Celtic" they were transferred to the "Titanic". They had been pursued to Queenstown by Mary's older brother who was supposedly armed with a gun (he had been tasked with retrieving their tearaway daughter). Nonetheless, the brother arrived by train too late and just missed the "Titanic's" tender. Hence the couple sailed off into destiny and disaster unhindered in their flight."

-Stoker: Titanic had 163 Stokers (or Firemen) who shoveled 600 tonnes of coal a day into 29 massive boilers, 24 hours a day, to keep the ship at the correct speed. It was hot, hard work.

-3rd Class Baths: There were only 2 bathtubs for 700 people. There was hot and cold running water in the rooms, so most people did a sponge bath in the privacy of their own rooms. It was only a one-week trip, and many people of the time held the opinion that frequent bathing had a negative effect on one's health.

-Note about future chapters: those of you who have read my stories before will know I time jump sometimes. I will do that when the ship starts to sink, so there will be no detailed descriptions in this fic of any deaths or the ship coming apart. Go watch Titanic if you want that, James Cameron does it perfectly. I will jump to what happens in the aftermath.


	6. Saturday Day

Getting off the elevator on F deck, Blaine walked towards the Turkish Bath, keeping an eye out for Kurt.

Turning a corner, he spotted him, leaning casually against a wall as he read a newspaper. He was dressed in a dark suit that was nicely tailored, with a crisp white shirt and a maroon ascot. His black shoes were shined to a fine polish. His hair and posture were perfect as always.

" _Guten tag, Herr Anderson._ " He lowered his paper, his eyes glinting in excitement and happiness at seeing Blaine. " _Wie geht es dir?"_

" _Gut, danke, Herr..._?" Blaine held out his hand to shake Kurt's, acting like he didn't remember his name. He'd certainly never met this side of Kurt before. It was hard to keep from chuckling.

Kurt shook Blaine's hand briskly. "Strauss, Ludwig Strauss. We met a few days ago at the Captain's table." He spoke with a thick German accent, and even his mannerisms were different. More stiff and formal.

Nodding his head, Blaine walked towards the Turkish Bath entrance. An attendant gave them a quick look before intoning the admission price, looking a little sleepy. Paying for both of them, Blaine waved a hand for Kurt to proceed him inside.

Another attendant led them through the moorish decorated rooms, pointing out the steam room, a hot room, a temperate room, shampooing room, and finally a cooling room. It was breathtakingly luxurious, with moorish tiles in bright emerald and sapphire shades covering most of the walls, finely carved wooden screens covering the portholes, and arabesque lamps attached to the walls.

Blaine shared a surprised look with Kurt, who was slightly breaking out of character with a little smirk.

"Um, Michaels, where is the bath? I thought Turkish Baths had a large hot pool for soaking in." Blaine asked the attendant.

Michaels shook his head. "Ah, no sir. That is the style of a Roman Bath. Turkish Baths use steam and dry heat to warm the body. Some compare it to the Scandinavian sauna." He passed them some towels and urged them towards the change room.

Once in the change room, they both started chuckling.

"Why the hell do they call it a 'bath', when there is no bath here?" Blaine looked at Kurt, his eyebrows raised as he shook his head. "Do you want to stay to try this out? Or we could go to the swimming pool, if you want. It's on this floor and I heard the water is heated."

Kurt shrugged, and started to take off his fine clothes. "We are here. Might as well get the full experience." He was still using the German accent, even though they seemed to be alone in the room. Once he was in character, he tended to stay in it.

Knowing it was going to be hot and sweaty, they stripped entirely, wrapping towels around their waists and putting on the ornate slippers provided.

Soon, they were settled in the steam room. Blaine was glad he hadn't put pomade in his hair this morning, just wetting down the curls to tame them before coming down here.

There were some other men in the room, so Kurt and Blaine simply sat near each other, relaxing and feeling their skin beading with sweat in the humid room.

When the other men left, Kurt stood with a twinkle in his eye, and poured water on the hot coals, making a big plume of steam that filled the room.

Sitting next to Blaine again, Kurt leaned close and kissed him. "Mmmm... good morning."

Blaine was a bit shocked at the daring move, but also thrilled by it. It had felt strange not to kiss hello when he first saw Kurt in the hallway. Kurt's kiss now wasn't as long or as deep as Blaine was craving, but it warmed Blaine's heart that Kurt wanted a hello kiss just as much as Blaine had.

The door to the steam room opened then, cooling the room. Blaine felt his skin prickle and looked up to find his father in the doorway. He froze in shock, and then scrambled to move away from Kurt.

"Father, I didn't expect to see you in here." Blaine said almost breathlessly, the surprise making it hard to find the words.

Kurt picked up a spare towel and draped it quickly over his head, rubbing a corner over his sweaty face. " _Auf Wiedersehn._ " His thick accent was apparent as he stood and exited swiftly from the room.

Charles watched him go with a glare, and then added more water to the coals to make the room steamy again. He settled on the wooden bench beside Blaine.

"Blaine, what do you think you're doing? It could have been anybody, coming in here." Charles was clearly angry, his tone harsh like he was holding back from yelling.

Sighing, Blaine used a spare towel to hide his face, pretending he was wiping up the sweat. "I'm sorry, Father." He had no excuses, or ways to get out of this.

Charles let out a soft curse, and laid a heavy hand on Blaine shoulder, and giving it a firm squeeze before letting go. "Look, I know there are certain explorations, activities, that boys do when they are at school. It happens. But you are an adult now, Blaine. Those physical urges are normal, but you need to direct them towards a wife."

Blaine wanted to squirm in discomfort at this talk. How could he answer? Say he never felt 'urges' about women, any woman? That his feelings about men weren't going to change? He knew the truth about himself and knew there were other men like him and Kurt. But it was never talked about in polite company, always hidden away. It was how it was, and it was not going to change.

"Yes, Father." Blaine could only agree, and hope his father dropped the topic.

Getting up, Charles paced around the steam room. "You say that, but I can tell you are placating me. But you will see I'm right once you are married. So, I want to see you married soon."

Blaine's eyebrows rose, but what could he do? "How soon?"

"The sooner it happens, the less chance you will get seen by someone acting in an inappropriate manner like I saw today. So, I'm going to say you have until the end of June to be engaged. Pick a woman yourself by then, or I will pick one for you." Charles' tone was serious and final. He meant what he said. "And I don't want to see you anywhere near that German man for the rest of this voyage."

He left right after that, leaving Blaine with his face in his hands, trying not to cry at the unfairness of it all.

Well, at least his father hadn't walked in on them kissing. His father's wrath at that would have been unimaginable, and Kurt could have ended up hurt even. Blaine shuddered at the idea of that scene.

At least it had been in a very steamy room, making it a little hard to see. Also, Kurt's hair had been soaking wet with sweat and the steam, hanging limply around his face. Both were probably good in preventing Charles from really getting a good look at Kurt. Plus, Kurt had covered up with the towel and left pretty quick.

Charles would be watching for Blaine being around a slim, young German first-class passenger. He doubted Charles would identify Kurt as the server at the restaurant or as Ludwig if they saw each other in passing.

Even though it was a massive ship, they would still have to be careful. Because there was no way he was going to give up spending as much time as possible with Kurt for the rest of the voyage. They just had to find a way to make this work.

He cared too much not to.

* * *

Blaine nodded along as Miss Wilde chatted about city versus country life, taking small bites of his chicken even though he had no appetite.

Across the table, his father had Mrs. Wilde talking about her prize winning roses, and she was quite happy to prattle on and on. He was very attentive to her, but also snuck warning glances to Blaine to keep him in line.

The lunch finally ended, and just as Blaine was about to escape, Miss Wilde suggested a walk on the Promenade to settle their stomachs.

"Um, why yes, Miss Wilde. That is a lovely idea." Blaine said with a pinned-on smile.

He rose and moved behind her chair to pull it out. When she stood, he held out his elbow and she looped her arm through his.

Many other people had the same idea, and they all strolled along, making polite conversation. His father and Mrs. Wilde were about ten feet in front of them.

When the older couple had turned a corner, Miss Wild drew Blaine to the side, sitting down on a deck chair and waving Blaine to the nearest one. There was no one else close by.

"Did you hear me at all at lunch, Mr. Anderson?" Miss Wilde was looking intently at Blaine, her direct manner and tone grabbing Blaine's full attention.

Blaine's eyebrows rose a little, and he scrambled to remember their conversation. He had been thinking about Kurt, wondering how he felt about the steam room incident.

"Um, well, of course. You were talking about how much you enjoy riding your horse in the country." Blaine was glad he was able to recall that much of the banal fluff.

Miss Wilde chuckled, surprising Blaine completely. "I'm shocked you even heard that. You seemed a little preoccupied." She sighed, leaning closer. "Look, Mr Anderson, we don't have much time before our parents get back, so please listen this time."

Her behaviour was so odd, Blaine had no trouble staying in the moment. "OK, Miss Wilde."

"I was stressing during lunch how much I prefer the country, being outdoors and riding for hours every day. Whereas you seem much more a city person, going out to the theatre, fine dining and musical performances." Miss Wilde's intelligent hazel eyes were intent on Blaine's, but she also kept an eye out for their parents returning.

Blaine nodded. "I would agree. I like to ride, but prefer the groomed parks in the city compared to the wild countryside."

Miss Wilde nodded in satisfaction. "So, you can see how we are quite opposite in many of our interests then?"

Realization dawned, and Blaine was surprised to feel a twang of disappointment. Out of the many women he'd been around lately, at least Miss Wilde was intelligent and had similar values. "I understand what you are hinting at, Miss Wilde. Excuse my frankness, but you are saying we would not suit each other in marriage."

He was shocked when she smirked back a little, a twinkle in her eyes as she leaned closer. "Actually, Mr. Anderson, exactly the opposite. May I call you Blaine?"

This was extremely forward for a young, unmarried woman to ask, but he was almost too flabbergasted to do anything but nod.

She looked pleased. "Good. Please call me Kitty." Glancing around again, her voice was even softer. "Blaine, let me just say that I saw you, on the boat deck, a few nights ago."

Blaine's brows furrowed, trying to make out what she was getting at. She didn't mean... She couldn't have seen...

She gave him a few moments, seeing the expressions flashing across his usually composed face.

"Blaine, I know you have formed, let us say, an attachment to someone your parents wouldn't approve of." She rushed on, knowing their time was short now. "Let's just say I have as well. Let's just say I am immensely found of riding, and if we were to marry, I would insist on having a country estate where I could bring my horse. And, of course, I would need to bring my groom, as he's the only one I fully trust with her care."

With those shocking statements, Kitty rose off the chair and strolled over to the railing, looking out over the miles of empty, calm ocean.

It took Blaine a minute to collect himself and join her. He could see his father and her mother had almost completed their circuit of the deck and were heading back their way.

"So, you imagine you would be spending most of your time in the country, while I am mostly in the city, working and such. It sounds quite lonely, Kitty." Blaine said softly, still trying to understand it all.

She smiled at him sweetly, pouring on the act now that their parents were getting closer. "I'm sure you have a close friend or two that could stay with you, for months at a time if they so desire." Her lips gave a tiny wicked tilt at the last word, before they smoothed back into her pretty neutral expression.

"Well, did you two just stay here chatting while we walked?" looked delighted to see them standing so close together.

"I must confess to finding your daughter more and more intriguing, the more I get to know her." Blaine lifted Kitty's gloved hand, and bent over it to deliver a light kiss. It was an old-fashioned flirty gesture, sure to please both her mother and his father.

* * *

Blaine needed quiet time on his own after that shocking lunch. After everything that had happened today. This week. This month. His whole life felt like a puzzle, the pieces all shaken up and out of order. He just needed some time to look at each piece and figure where they would go. Would they all fit together? Could they? The talk with Kitty had given Blaine a glimmer of hope for a life he never imagined to be possible.

His father was, of course, extremely pleased. He saw the way Blaine had been with Kitty, and thought an engagement was eminent. Thought his ultimatum had pushed Blaine to take a good, hard look at Kitty and realize she was a good potential match. And in a way, he might be right. Blaine told his father he would have dinner alone later in his suite to think things over.

Needing peace and quiet for his thoughts, Blaine headed back down to the F deck, but this time to the swimming pool. The attendant supplied the swimming costume, and Blaine had the space to himself.

After tiring himself out with laps, Blaine just floated on his back, staring up at the ceiling, thinking.

Blaine tried to imagine what his life would be like if he married Kitty. She would be living in the country mostly, while he was in the city, both discreetly pursuing their own romantic interests. He liked her and thought they would get along when they had to be around each other as a couple. It would be a comfortable life, with more freedom to be himself than he ever thought he'd get. It was an exciting concept.

But would Kurt be interested in being involved with Blaine in that setting? Staying with Blaine as a 'friend', or letting Blaine rent him a nice place nearby they could just be themselves in? It would be so great to continue things between them, giving this exciting beginning time and space to grow.

What did Kurt want? He'd mentioned that he was going to visit family in Ohio, but didn't seem to have plans after that yet. Could he be persuaded to live with or near Blaine? He seemed interested in Blaine now, but would he be after they got off the boat?

Maybe Blaine was just being a romantic fool, letting his feelings run away with him. He hadn't know Kurt that long, but already he was imagining a future with him.

They came from such different backgrounds, but Kurt was well-read, educated and had travelled widely. He spoke French fluently and knew good food, good wine. Blaine knew if Kurt was around Blaine's friends, he would fit into the conversation as easily as Blaine had with Kurt's friends.

He'd never had feelings so fast, so strong for anyone before. Blaine just loved his company, just being around Kurt. Loved how he looked, and the way he flawlessly took on whole other personas. Loved his teasing and flirting, the way his eyes glinted with happiness and humour, or the way they darkened with arousal. Loved his responsiveness to Blaine's touch, and the way Blaine reacted just as strongly to his. He just loved….Kurt.

Blaine closed his eyes, still floating on his back in that pool, alone. _I love Kurt._ He repeated the thought in his mind, over and over, testing it out. And it didn't scare Blaine. Instead, the thought warmed him, spreading outwards from his chest. His heart thumped, and he could feel it was true. Right.

He wanted to scream or ...something... All sorts of emotions were swirling inside him. But he just dove down in the water, feeling like he might float away. Coming back to the surface, he tried to stop grinning like a fool. Surely it was too soon for real love. They had only seen each other a handful of times.

He argued with himself, trying to find something to pierce the thought, the feeling, but it was taking root and spreading.

Now, it was even more important to see Kurt, to talk, to see what he wanted. Did he feel the same? It was heaven and hell, imaging the two ways that question, the most important question Blaine would ever ask him, could be answered.

It was so new and overwhelming. And there were so many things he needed to know. Needed to talk about with Kurt. They needed hours alone, time and space to talk it out.

Kurt had mentioned his roommate would be in the cabin tonight, so they wouldn't be able to go there. How could he get Kurt to his cabin? Then Blaine got a wonderful idea.

* * *

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Fun facts: - The Titanic had it's own on-board newspaper, called the Atlantic Daily Bulletin. This is what Kurt was reading while he waited for Blaine.

Turkish Bath: This was a surprise in my research. Like Blaine & Kurt, I expected the Turkish Bath to have a large heated pool. Haha

Swimming Pool: 7 feet deep, 30 feet long by 14 feet wide swimming pool with 13 changing rooms plus 2 showers, the largest heated pool on any ship at that time. (her sister ship Olympic also had a heated swimming pool).


	7. Saturday Evening

"I'd like to speak with the manager, if I may." Blaine smiled at the maître d', sneaking glances into the restaurant to see if he could catch a glimpse of Kurt.

" _Oui, Monsieur._ One moment, _s'il vous plait_." The older man nodded and slipped off towards the kitchens.

An Italian man with a dark moustache appeared soon. "Hello, sir. My name is Luigi Gatti. You requested to see me?"

Blaine shook his hand and introduced himself. "Yes. I was here a few nights ago and had a lovely meal. Would it be possible to arrange for a private meal for two to be served in my suite? I was hoping I could hire the server I had before so everything would go smoothly."

The manager nodded, looking interested in the request. "When did you have in mind, sir?"

Blaine shook his head regretfully. "Tonight, if possible. I know it's incredibly short notice but I'm flexible on the time. It could even be when your restaurant is closing, so I'm not pulling away a server when you need him."

Mr. Gatti opened their reservations book, tapping his finger over the entries. "I could spare someone at 8:00 pm. Which server was it?"

"I didn't catch his name. It was on Thursday night and I sat at the second table by the window, if that helps. He was a fairly young man with brown hair and blue eyes. He speaks English quite well." Blaine had no idea what name Kurt used while working here. Nicky? Kurt?

The manager smiled and nodded. "Oh, it must be Marcel. Yes, that can be arranged. Now, would you like to select the items from the menu?" He held one towards Blaine.

"Actually, my father and I followed Marcel's wine and menu suggestions and we both loved his choices. Could you ask him to select for me again? Just tell him it's a romantic dinner for two, and to go all out." Blaine grinned, looking forward to what Kurt would pick. It was sure to be delicious.

Mr. Gatti was too professional to show any surprise at Blaine's requests. He simply nodded. "As you wish, sir. This can all be done for you." He took all the details from Blaine.

"Perfect. Please make sure he includes a bottle of Champagne." Blaine smiled and took an envelop out of his lapel pocket. "Here's a little something extra for you for arranging this for me on such short notice. Please bill everything to my room, of course."

After shaking hands again, Blaine left to get ready for the night. The generous amount of cash he'd given Mr. Gatti would practically guarantee the dinner would be lovely.

* * *

At precisely 8:00 pm, there was a knock on his door. Blaine smiled as he strode over to it, throwing it open quickly.

It was just as he imagined it. A trolley heaped with domed dishes, with Kurt standing behind it. " _Bon soir, Monsieur._ I am Marcel, your server for the night." His tone was cool and distant, professional. His light French accent was back.

Blaine was so surprised on hearing that that he just stepped back and waved Kurt in.

Kurt pushed the loaded trolley inside, and then surveyed the room quickly. "Would it be acceptable, sir, if I moved this table to the center of the room? It will be easier for me to serve the meal in that position."

"But, you...ah..." Blaine started, but stopped when Kurt shot him an impatient glare, his eyes practically smouldering. _Oh, Kurt was mad at Blaine. Furious._ Was it because of what happened in the steam room that morning? Blaine hadn't had a chance to talk about it with Kurt after, with having to get ready for the lunch and then Kurt working all day. "Um, sure, Kurt. Whatever you think is best."

Kurt's actions stilled. Without looking away from his trolley, Kurt said in a low tone. "While I am here as your server, Mr. Anderson, please call me Marcel."

He worked fast, moving the table and chairs into position, and then set the table elegantly with a tablecloth, china, silverware, cloth napkins and even two roses in a tiny vase. It was a perfect romantic setting.

Blaine nodded in approval. "This looks lovely, Ku-Marcel." He looked over to a side table and picked up a silver candlestick, adding it to the table.

Now, how could he get Kurt to talk to him? He was outwardly composed, looking every bit the role of the professional server. But Blaine knew him well enough to know he was livid. And Blaine had no idea how to handle this.

"Will your guest be arriving soon, sir? I wouldn't want the food to get cold." Kurt said stiffly, opening a bottle of wine.

Blaine turned to Kurt in surprise. "Guest?"

Kurt's eyebrows drew down slightly. "Yes, sir. You ordered a romantic dinner for two to be served in your private suite. So insistent that it would be tonight, and with Champagne."

"Oh, I see. Yes, that is what I asked for." Suddenly he understood why Kurt was so angry. He was jealous. "And who do you think my guest will be? Who could I possibly invite to a private romantic dinner like this? It must be someone quite special to me."

Kurt's eyes held Blaine's for a couple heartbeats, and then he looked away, staring at the wall. "There has been talk of you dining with Miss Wilde a few times. Including lunch today."

"Really? People talk about me? About Miss Wilde?" Blaine was actually a bit surprised at this.

Kurt rolled his eyes, breaking out of his Marcel role and giving Blaine an exasperated look. "Of course we do, Blaine! There are only 300 first class passengers on board and you eat three times a day in either the first class dining hall or Cafe Parisien or The Ritz." He shrugged. "The servers all eat together and share stories. Speculation about what the unattached adults are up to is always the juiciest gossip."

Blaine nodded. It made sense. There weren't that many single women on board and he eaten with all of them at least once. He'd eaten with Kitty four times, if you included afternoon tea.

"It's true that I've dined the most with Kitty, and that we had lunch today. It's also true that my father is pushing the match between us...," Blaine could see Kurt was tense, almost flinching when Blaine used her first name with such familiarity. "But she isn't my guest for this meal."

Kurt turned away, swearing in French softly. At least Blaine thought it was French swearing. He could make out the word ' _merde_ ' a few times. He got the feeling he didn't want to know the rest of the words.

"That's hardly professional, Marcel." Blaine drawled, sitting down at the table and putting the cloth napkin across his lap with flourish. "Would you pour out the wine, please?"

"Two glasses of wine?" Kurt bit out, sloshing the white wine into Blaine's glass, and thumping the wine bottle down on the table.

Blaine calmly picked up the wineglass, holding it up to the light, and inhaling the delicate aroma. He took a little sip. Mmmm... delicious. He looked over at Kurt, still so angry beside the table, and decided to put him out of his misery.

"Kurt, don't you see yet that YOU are the other guest? How else could I get to eat a lovely meal with you? How else could I get you into my suite without causing undue attention?" Blaine gave Kurt a level look, letting him see he was totally serious now.

Kurt was stunned, the anger draining out of him as he turned the idea over in his mind. "Me? This meal is all for me? For us?"

It took a few moments, but eventually, a small smile curled the corners of his mouth.

Blaine stood up and pushed Kurt into the other chair, poured out a glass of wine for him, and sat back down. He held up his glass. "To us."

Kurt picked up the glass and clinked it against Blaine's, and took a sip. He still looked a bit stunned.

"Did you bring soup? I'm a little hungry and everything smells so good." Blaine smiled, loving how much he'd thrown off Kurt's usual composure.

Kurt nodded and jumped back into server mode, putting out rolls with butter and the soup bowls. He was ladling it into the bowls when he suddenly froze.

"Um, actually we should probably skip the soup course. There's plenty of other food, so we won't be hungry." Kurt said quickly, looking a little guilty and reaching for Blaine's bowl.

"But it smells so good." Blaine clamped his hands on the sides of the half-filled dish to keep Kurt from taking it.

Kurt just shook his head, still trying to get the dish. Finally he let go and looked up at Blaine. "I, um, did something to the soup. Because I was mad at you. We can't eat it."

Blaine let out a laugh. "Really? What did you do to it?" He stirred the soup with his spoon, half expecting to see spiders in it or something.

Chuckling, Kurt just smirked a little. "I spat in it. Twice." He shrugged his shoulders.

Blaine chuckled back and mirrored Kurt, shrugging his shoulders too. And then he took a big spoonful of soup and ate it.

"Blaine!" Kurt yelped out, completely shocked and looking disgusted as Blaine kept eating the soup.

"Kurt!" Blaine joked back, and put the spoon down in his empty bowl. "I've probably kissed you for a solid hour or more, if you add it all up. I'm not exactly scared of your spit."

Scrunching his nose up slightly, Kurt picked up the empty soup dish and put it back on the trolley. "OK, I see your point but it's still a bit gross. Let's move on to the next course, OK?"

Standing up, Blaine moved in front of Kurt and gave him a good hello kiss. "Let's start this whole thing over and just enjoy this whole wonderful meal. I'll help you with the food. Are you comfortable? You can take your jacket off if you want. It's just us here."

About twenty minutes later, they were both just wearing their dress shirts with the top two buttons undone. No ties or suit jackets. Kurt was using a nutcracker to get the last bit of lobster meat out of its shell. The bottle of wine was empty.

The meal had been just as delicious as Blaine had expected, but Kurt's company made it even better. They discussed books, music and European politics, and Blaine felt his feelings for this incredible man deepening as he gazed at him over the elegant table, soft candlelight dancing over his features.

"I've been meaning to ask you about something, Kurt. How do you afford things like that beautiful suit you wore this morning, or the good wine and cheese we had last night?" Blaine played with his napkin, feeling relaxed and so happy.

Kurt gave a little pleased grin. "I haggle and barter."

Blaine's eyebrows shot up. "You trade kisses for those things too?"

Laughing hard at that comment, Kurt shook his head and used his napkin to wipe at his eyes. "No, no...but you can usually trade things to get what you want. I bought the suit at a consignment shop in Paris, hardly worn at all. I traded English lessons for getting it expertly tailored by my next door neighbour. When I heard they need servers who spoke french and English for the restaurant here, I knew it was a way I could finally afford to get back to the US. But I still haggled to get a good bottle of wine and some cheese each day as part of my wage."

"It was very tasty wine and cheese." Blaine smiled, charmed by Kurt inventiveness. And feeling a twinge of arousal as he remembered what Kurt had done with that wine. He shifted a little in his chair.

Kurt shrugged. "I've lived in Paris too long to go without it."

"Mmmm...I'm so full. Want to cuddle on the chaise while we drink the champagne? Will dessert keep until a little later?" Blaine put his napkin down beside his plate. He needed to feel Kurt close.

Kurt nodded and gathered the dishes onto the trolley. He removed the dessert things, and slipped his jacket back on. Within a few minutes he was back looking perfect again.

"I'll take the trolley away and be back soon." Kurt composed himself before opening the door and pushing the trolley into the hall.

Looking around the room, Blaine thought how he could make it nicer for them when Kurt got back. By the time he was done, the chairs were back against the wall, the chaise lounge pulled out to be closer to the table, where the dessert and champagne were within easy reach. Candles were gathered on the side of the table, emitting a softer glow than the electric lighting. The curtains from the corner of the bed were drawn, creating a private little space inside with fluffed up pillows. If only he had his phonograph here, as he knew Kurt would enjoy listening to some records.

This wasn't a seduction. He wanted Kurt to relax and feel special. Wanted to talk about the future. It was scary, but Blaine had to make some big decisions soon. And he needed to know if Kurt was going to be in the picture or not. And he was as nervous as hell that Kurt would say it was the latter.

* * *

There was a soft knock on the door, and Blaine answered it, relieved to see Kurt there. Taking the tray from his hands, he motioned with his head for Kurt to come in.

"I brought some coffee for us." Kurt said, slipping off his suit jacket and tie, kicking off his shoes and undoing a couple buttons of his shirt. Blaine liked seeing him making himself comfortable.

They settled onto the chaise lounge with their coffees, sipping the fragrant brew slowly. It was a nice reclining angle, and they fit together well, bodies touching along one side.

"So, what happened in the steam room after I left?" Kurt asked softly.

Blaine chuckled drily. "Well, it's the third time my father has seen you now, and he hasn't made any connections to your different incarnations. I think it was steamy enough he didn't get much of a look at you before you covered up with the towel."

Taking a sip of his coffee, Kurt gave a small smile back. "That's good news, at least. Did he yell and scream at you though?"

"Well, he definitely saw enough to know I was up to something. He said that boys might 'explore' things a bit when they are in school, but adult men should only have relations with their wives. And he told me I had to get engaged by the end of June." Blaine looked down into his coffee cup.

Kurt's eyebrows went up. "That's only ten weeks away! Do you know women in New York who are possibilities too?"

"Nope." Blaine took a long sip. "And then I had to go for lunch with Kitty and her mother. That was quite something, let me tell you."

Kurt nudged his shoulder. "And when, exactly, did you start calling her 'Kitty'?" There was a twinge of jealousy in his tone.

Blaine just shook his head. "After I tell you what she said to me on the Promenade, you'll be calling her Kitty too." And he filled Kurt in, almost laughing at the shock on his face.

"So, she's going to live in a country house and basically living in sin with the stable boy? While you live in town, living in sin with me?" Kurt chuckled, trying to picture if it would actually work. And ended up just shaking his head.

Blaine shrugged. "Well, at least I'd get away from my father and have more freedom. I like Kitty and would enjoy her company when we need to spend time together to keep up the image of being a happy couple."

"That seems rather cold." Kurt remarked, putting his empty coffee cup on the table.

Blaine shrugged. "You know what life is like for men like us, Kurt. In a perfect world, we could marry a man we love and live openly together. But the choices are limited in reality. I just want to be with you, Kurt. If I marry Kitty, we would have the most freedom to be together."

Turning on his side, Kurt looked at Blaine. "This is so crazy, Blaine. We haven't even known each other a month, and you are making life choices based on this, this….whatever we have. We don't even know each other very well."

"I hardly know Kitty either." Blaine shrugged.

Kurt shook his head. "Don't commit to anything until you know her better, Blaine."

Blaine sighed. "What she's offering might be my best chance at a happy life. If I wait, she may find someone else."

Kurt scoffed. "There are other choices, Blaine. Other ways to have a happy life."

"Like your life, Kurt? Are you happy? You seem to love your job, but it must be hard to travel so much. Are you going to go back to Vaudeville when you are back in the states?" Blaine had been wondering about this for a long time.

Taking Blaine's empty coffee cup to put it on the table, Kurt snuggled against his side. "I'm not totally sure yet, to tell you the truth. I got a bit homesick and really felt the urge to see my father. We write letters to each other constantly, but it's not the same as giving him a long hug and seeing his eyes twinkle as he teases me."

"But after a long visit with him, you will probably go back to Vaudeville, right? I get the feeling that performing is in your blood, Kurt." Blaine said softly.

Kurt pushed his face against the bare skin of Blaine's neck. "You're probably right, Blaine." He sighed. "And it's practically impossible to have a relationship with someone when I travel all the time. We'd never see each other."

"There's got to be a way, Kurt. What if I marry Kitty and I get an apartment for you in the city? Maybe you could perform in New York more and tour less." Blaine suggested, grasping at straws.

Kurt sat up and looked down at Blaine, scoffing. "So, I'd be your kept man? I'm not a caged bird, Blaine. I need to be free."

"Don't you want to be with me at all, Kurt? Don't you feel this connection between us? Is it only sex and some fun for you? You never ask me any questions. Don't you want to get to know me at all?" Blaine said softly. It hurt to ask those questions, but he had to know.

Kurt sighed. "I'm not sure, Blaine. I do feel the connection between us, and it's more than just sex and fun. I was in a right snit all day, thinking that I'd be serving dinner to you and your future fiancée. Fearing I'd have to stand politely to the side as I watched you propose to her and pour out the champagne when she accepted. Even though I know you don't like women that way, I was jealous. Me. Jealous. Maybe just jealous of her place in your life. That she is allowed to be with you in public, while I have to run and hide."

Blaine knew Kurt was referring to what happened earlier in the steam room, and hugged him tight. He was happy to know Kurt had some feelings for him, but something wasn't right.

"I know I'm always the one who asks the questions, Kurt, but you mentioned moving to England with a close friend. He was more than that, wasn't he?" Blaine asked, running a hand along Kurt's arm, back and forth.

Kurt sighed, and pressed his face into Blaine's shoulder. Before, he'd always seemed so confident and strong. But tonight, he seemed so young and vulnerable. Blaine's heart went out to him.

"His name was Paul. He was in our company, and sang comedic songs in a lovely tenor voice, a real fan favorite. We were inseparable. But eventually, he wanted to return to England so I went with him and we did the Music Hall circuit. England isn't that large, and he was able to go home to see his mother fairly often. She worked on him, and within a year he was engaged to a local girl, and getting a day job." Kurt said softly.

"You really loved him, didn't you?" Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded slowly. "And I never wanted to feel hurt like that again. He loved me too, I know he did. But what we had wasn't enough for him. He wanted a normal life, or at least the appearance of one. He threw away everything we had, threw me away." His voice broke a little at the end, and Blaine knew it was a very painful memory for him.

Wrapping his arms tight around Kurt, Blaine hugged him, rocking him. "He was a stupid man then. Do you know when I first saw you singing in Paris, dressed like a woman, singing about the man you were yearning for, I thought to myself that man was an idiot for not being with you."

Kurt made a sound that was halfway between a sob and a laugh.

"The truth is I have feelings for you, Blaine. But I've really resisted it, tried to avoid getting involved. I was hurt so bad by Paul, that for ages I've kept it light and playful. Sex and some flirting. But lately it has felt kind of empty. And then you came along, and you snuck under my skin somehow. I find myself smiling as I remember something you said, and looking at the clock far too often, calculating how long until I get to see you again." Kurt leaned closer, and when his lips touched Blaine's, it was a different kiss than they had ever shared before. Light, exploring, asking instead of taking.

It reached down and squeezed Blaine's heart. He was helpless to do anything but kiss Kurt back, soft and slow. When Kurt eventually pulled back, he looked shy and younger somehow. Blaine cuddled him close.

"How many questions do I get?" Kurt asked, playing with Blaine's shirt button.

Blaine chuckled. "Eleven."

Grinning to himself, Kurt glanced up at Blaine. "Tell me about your family."

"Hmmmm…. 'tell me' requests are worth five questions, you know." Blaine teased, pushing the hair back off of Kurt's forehead.

Kurt nodded, and snuggled down against Blaine's chest.

"Well, I don't come from a big family either. My only brother is eight years older and he moved out to California years ago. We write occasionally, but we haven't been that close since he left." Blaine shrugged. "You probably got a good idea what my father was like when you served him at the restaurant. A good businessman, successful, but I haven't been around him much the last ten years. The same goes for my mother. I always felt more duty and expectation than love from them."

Kurt nodded. "You mentioned an Irish nanny. What was her name?"

"Fiona." Blaine said. He still wrote to her, even though she was nanny to some other children now.

"She was more of a parent to you than your parents were, wasn't she?" Kurt reached over to the table, and took out a strawberry. Holding it out to Blaine, letting him take a bite of the juicy berry. He popped the rest of the fruit into his own mouth.

Nodding his head in agreement as he chewed and swallowed, Blaine thought back on Fiona. He really should see her more often. She was such a loving, fun woman with a big heart. "I think I get my love of music from her. She always sang with such unreserved joy. I took piano lessons for years to please my parents, but it was always much more fun to learn to play the guitar and sing the traditional songs she had taught me."

Kurt chuckled. "I was just picturing what would happen if you ran away to join a Vaudeville company. If you got on stage every night with your guitar to sing those old songs. Would Fiona come out to see you perform and feel proud?"

Blaine's lips twitched at the thought. What if he just ran away from everything and lived simply with Kurt? No worrying about being polite and proper. No trying to find a suitable wife to fit the life his father had envisioned for him. Leaving everything behind for love, like Denis and Mary had.

"That's a crazy thought, but I think she would be pleased and proud of me." Blaine nodded, and smiled broadly.

"What about your father?" Kurt laughed, delighted at Blaine's playing along with his crazy ideas.

Blaine shook his head. "He doesn't need me. He's healthy and loves running the hotel."

"My Rebel Prince. Wanting to run off from the kingdom and live with the peasants." Kurt leaned forward, planting a loud kiss on Blaine's mouth.

Chuckling, Blaine grabbed the back of Kurt's head to hold him in place for some deeper, hungry kisses.

Kurt was giggling by the time he pulled away. "Quit trying to distract me. I still have six more questions."

Shifting, Blaine pushed Kurt to lie back on the chaise as he opened the champagne and filled the glasses. "Ask away. I think we should drink champagne and feed each other dessert as you do that."

Chuckling, Kurt accepted the glass from Blaine. "Yeah, because that won't be distracting at all. Hmmmmm…. Tell me about school, and all these boys your father says you were 'exploring' with."

Picking up a bunch of grapes, Blaine tossed one in the air and caught it with his mouth, chewing it as he thought. He pulled off another grape, and brushed the smooth, cool fruit over Kurt's lips until he opened his mouth to accept it.

"It was a good school. They were strict, making us work hard for our grades, but they really encouraged us to play sports and have a good school spirit. College was pretty similar." Blaine shrugged a shoulder, catching another tossed grape to chew while he thought. "There weren't that many boys..." The confession made him blush a little, and duck his head.

Kurt grinned. "Ha! You can't even say that with a straight face, excuse the bad pun. I demand more details."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Mostly just normal fumbling around. But in my prep school, it was really hard to find a place to be alone for it. There was this old chapel building, and the priest was quite elderly, so he wasn't there much. So, most of my first encounters were in there. Sometimes, I'll be in church on Sunday, and something will trigger an old memory and…"

Kurt chuckled. "You'll pitch a tent?"

Nodding, Blaine was still blushing a bit as he reached over and scooped up some whip cream with his finger, licking it off.

Kurt groaned at the sight.

Blaine gave him an innocent look. "What? You want some too?" He scooped up some more whip cream and held it near Kurt's mouth.

Grabbing Blaine's hand, Kurt stuck his tongue out and took his time licking the cream off Blaine's finger, letting out little moans of pleasure. When the cream was gone, he took Blaine's finger in his mouth, giving it a little suck as he circled his tongue around his fingertip. When he let go of his hand, he just smirked up at Blaine.

Shaking his head, Blaine downed the rest of his Champagne and poured them both another glass. It was the end of the bottle. Had they already finished off the rest?

Giggling, Kurt sat up to take the glass. "I could drink Champagne every day."

"Come with me, and be my love. I'll give you Champagne and roses every day." Blaine pulled Kurt closer to kiss his neck, right below his ear. He tasted the best right there, Blaine decided.

But Kurt pushed him away. "It feels kind of hot in here, don't you think? Let's go outside and get some air for a bit."

Getting off the chaise lounge, they both had wobbly legs and realized just how easily that Champagne had gone down. But with a giggle, they headed out the door and Blaine locked up behind them.

* * *

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

-A/N: -More of their evening in the next chapter...

-First class passengers ate in the main dining saloon. They also had the option of eating in at Café Parisien or the restaurant referred to as 'The Ritz', with a la carte options, for an additional cost. These two restaurants were not managed by the White Star Line. Luigi Gatti ran it as a concession and his 68 staff were not part of the regular crew. Kurt was part of this group of workers.

I think there will 10-11 chapters total. Not a very long fic (for me)!


	8. Saturday Night Pt 1

The Promenade was mostly empty at this time of night, a little cool wind that felt good against their warm skin.

They had pulled on long coats of Blaine's over their clothes and didn't get any second looks as they walked along.

At the far end they stopped, looking at the trail of churned up water of the Titanic's wake, both deep in their own thoughts. Kurt had his hand on the railing, and Blaine stood next to him in the quiet of the late evening.

Turning after a few minutes, they moved to a wooden bench, and sat back, feeling the light ocean breeze as they looked up at the starry sky. The moon had waned until it was hardly a sliver of light.

Blaine turned to Kurt, taking in his enchanting profile. The high hair, big eyes with such long eyelashes, the strong nose that was slightly turned up at the end, and those full lips. He was beautiful, but Blaine was also entranced by Kurt himself. His adventurous spirit, humor and intelligence. Being around Kurt was always exciting, and Blaine never wanted it to end.

Kurt caught the look, and smiled back, looking relaxed and happy. Blaine loved seeing him that way. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Scooting as close as possible, Blaine reached over and took Kurt's hand. Their thick dark coats practically hid their linked hands, lost in the voluminous folds of fabric. "Know what I think when I look at you, Kurt? The same thing, repeating in my head, over and over. 'I love you, I love you, I love you...'"

Kurt's eyes widened in surprise, as he searched Blaine's expression, trying to tell if he was serious. But Blaine's heart dropped when Kurt slowly shook his head and looked down. "Blaine, that's sweet of you to say, but it's just all the champagne talking. It's being together so much, on this ship. Once you go back to your normal life, your memories of me will fade soon enough. Let's just enjoy what we have for now."

"I know we haven't known each other that long, but it doesn't mean my feelings for you aren't going to last, Kurt. This isn't just a shipboard romance." Blaine squeezed his hand lightly.

Sighing, Kurt looked out to the sea. "I don't know if relationships actually work, Blaine." He turned to face him, the easy happiness gone from his expression. "We come from such different worlds. I do care about you, but I just don't see how this could last."

Blaine nodded. "Kurt, you were hurt badly by Paul, and I can understand why you feel that way. But just because one relationship didn't work out, that doesn't mean they will all fail." He squeezed Kurt's hand, never wanting to let go. "My biggest fear is that in a few days, we will get off this ship, and you'll slip away like sand through my fingers. I would regret it for the rest of my life if that happened."

Kurt looked so lost and unsure. His eyes were large and seemed to sparkle with unshed tears. He blinked fast, and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I don't know, Blaine. Your words are so beautiful and you make me feel so much. Make me feel things I thought were burnt out of me long ago. It's so confusing. It excites me, but also scares me."

With a little squeeze of his hand, Blaine got Kurt's eyes to meet his. "You say you have feelings for me, Kurt. Do you love me?" It was scary to ask, but Blaine had to know.

Kurt blinked slowly, his eyes a jumble of emotions. Blaine just kept gazing at him, his eyes warm and loving, hoping and praying that Kurt shared his feelings. If Kurt didn't love him, this was all for naught.

Biting his lip, Kurt gave a little nod, and then a more decisive one. His lips twitched, and then tilted up into a tiny private smile. "Yes, yes I do, Blaine Anderson. I do love you." His voice was soft and a bit breathless, like his own words were surprising to him too.

Blaine gave him a giddy smile back, his heart soaring at those words. He wanted to kiss Kurt right there, but held back. Barely.

"Kurt, I know this has happened incredibly fast, and you are worried that our feelings won't last. Also worried that we are too different to have a lasting relationship. It won't be easy, and we will have to work together to build a life that works for both of us. Only time will tell if we can do this." Blaine said softly, feeling like he was on the edge of a huge cliff, about to take a step off into the unknown.

Blaine put a hand on Kurt's arm. "Would you give us a chance, Kurt? Would you handfast with me? Swear an oath with me to give us a year and a day? Give us time? And then, if either of us doesn't want to continue this, we can part. But at least we won't have any regrets." Blaine held his breath, his eyes intent on Kurt's.

Kurt's eyes were locked on Blaine's, reading every emotion in them, seeing the love this sweet man had for him. He knew how unlikely it was that they had crossed paths in a Paris music hall and then on this ocean liner. Knew that what they had was special and unique. And he knew what answer to give.

He nodded, his heart pounding. "Yes, Blaine, I will take that oath with you."

Blaine's eyes widened, and he looked almost overcome with happiness. It took everything they had to hold back from hugging and kissing.

Blaine grabbed Kurt by the elbow and dragged him down the promenade, just desperate to get Kurt back to his suite now.

Kurt giggled as they tore past an older couple, the woman tsking in displeasure and muttering "Hooligans" under her breath.

It wasn't long before they were safe behind Blaine's door, kissing each other deeply. Kurt felt a bit breathless and dizzy from the run, Blaine's kisses and pure happiness.

"How do we do this?" Blaine chuckled, kissing along Kurt's jaw.

Kurt giggled. "I have no idea. Do we need witnesses to make it official?"

Blaine shrugged. "I only know what Seamus said in the common room. But I don't think we need witnesses. It's our oath, just between us."

Nodding, Kurt pulled away, looking down at his server uniform and Blaine's unbuttoned coat. "Well, I'm not going to make an oath dressed like this. We should try to make it special."

Blaine looked around the room. "We have candles and dessert." He picked up the champagne bottle. "But nothing to drink to celebrate."

Kurt nodded. "I'll go back to my room to change into some better clothes, and to grab a few things. I won't be long."

He almost turned to go when Blaine pulled him back for a quick, hard kiss. "Don't forget to bring your toothbrush, because you're staying here for the night."

Kurt gave him a wide smile and nodded before he slipped out the door.

* * *

Blaine sighed in relief as he opened up his door to Kurt's soft knock. It had seemed to take forever for him to return.

But seeing how brightly Kurt's eyes were shining with excitement and happiness, Blaine knew it had been worth every second he waited.

Kurt had a small valise with him and he set it down. He unbuttoned Blaine's coat and pulled it off. He was still in the server uniform.

"I thought you were going to change." Blaine said, looking down at his own clothes. He'd changed into his favorite suit, a dark grey with a light pinstripe. He had daringly paired it with a mustard colored bow tie.

Kurt nodded. "I brought the clothes to change here. If I'm staying the night, it will be less rushed in the morning if I leave for work from here."

He lifted the valise to the table to open and rustle around. "I brought a bottle of wine, and some cheese. It will go nice with the grapes."

"Mmmm...part of your daily wage." Blaine looked at the delicious food on the table with a smile.

Picking up the valise, Kurt walked into the adjoining bathroom. "I won't be too long."

* * *

When Kurt finally emerged, he took Blaine's breath away.

It wasn't so much about the actual clothing, but the style and grace he had in the way he wore it. He wore a well-tailored vest and dress pants in a deep brown, with a crisp white shirt and a coordinating ascot with small polka dots. His hair was coiffed high and his skin seemed to glow. He looked slim and tall and perfect.

Kurt gave a little smirk at Blaine's expression, and then dropped a light kiss on his mouth. "You look wonderful too." His hands smoothed along Blaine's shoulders, loving the way the suit showed off his muscular, trim frame so well.

Looking around, Kurt could see the candles were all lit, the wine poured, the food set out for them. Blaine had been busy, and it meant a lot to Kurt to see it.

Blaine was a little tongue-tied, his heart beating a little faster in excitement and nerves. "Um, where should we stand?"

Kurt thought for a minute, and moved to stand near the candles on the table. "How about here? I have an idea." He moved all the candles to the far side of the table, except for three of the tallest ones. He snuffed one out.

Blaine stood facing him, standing tall and proud, unable to keep from smiling.

Passing Blaine a lit candle, Kurt took the other one. "These candles represent us, and this other candle represent our union. Let's light that candle together."

The flames of their candles danced together as one until the wick of the third candle was burning again. Kurt set his candle down beside it, and Blaine followed suit.

"I, Blaine Devon Anderson, enter into this oath a free man with no other claims on my heart." Blaine said softly, taking Kurt's right hand in his.

Kurt took Blaine's other hand. "I, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, enter into this oath as a free man with no other claims on my heart."

Blaine looked down at their clasped hands. "We need something to wrap around our hands. I can get a tie or something."

Kurt shook his head, and let go of one hand to reach into his pocket, pulling out a long floral silk scarf. "This was my mother's." He wrapped it around their clasped right hands, looping it in a figure eight pattern over their wrists, the infinity symbol. When he was done, he took Blaine's other hand again.

Blaine smiled and nodded at Kurt, feeling really touched at the symbolism of that. "This bond between us will be strong enough to keep us together, but flexible enough to allow us to grow as individuals. As our hands are bound together, so are our lives."

"On this day, my hand is yours to hold, my heart forever yours to keep." Kurt said softly, squeezing Blaine's hand. This felt right. Their hands were meant to hold each other's.

Taking a deep breath, Blaine let it out slowly, his eyes on Kurt's. "I love you, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, and I swear this oath today to do everything I can to support our love. I will love and cherish you, do everything within my power to bring you joy and happiness. And if after a year and a day, we decide to part, we will do so knowing that we have honored this beautiful love we share. The love will carry on, forever, even if we must part." He spoke from the heart, knowing that Kurt meant everything to him now.

Kurt was blinking back tears, and it was making Blaine's eyes dampen as well.

"I love you, Blaine Devon Anderson. Today I make the oath that for a year and a day, I will do everything under my power to honor our bond. Feed it with kind thoughts and tender kisses. I will love and cherish you, thank the lucky stars that have brought us together, and make your happiness my ultimate goal. Our love will carry on, even if we must part." His voice wobbled a bit at the end, but he was able to complete his oath. As he said it, he felt like the words struck a chord deep inside. They just felt right.

Blaine leaned down to pick up a glass of wine, holding it out to Kurt.

Kurt took a sip with a small smile, and then took the glass from Blaine for him to repeat the action.

Leaning forward over their bound hands, Kurt's mouth touched Blaine's lightly, and then it deepened into a full, deep kiss. When they pulled back, they were both a bit breathless.

"Can I untie this?" Blaine said softly.

Kurt nodded, watching as Blaine unwound the silk scarf from their wrists. When Blaine held the fabric out to Kurt, Kurt reached out to close Blaine's fingers around it. "I want you to keep it with you as a remembrance of today."

Blaine gave a little smile, and put the scarf into his pocket. He pulled out his pocket watch, and put it into Kurt's hand. "I want you to have this. I've had it ten years." He opened it up, and his initials were engraved inside. "When we get to New York, we will add your initials to this and today's date. And whenever you look at the time, I want you to think of us."

Kurt clasped it in his hand like a fragile bird and gave Blaine another light kiss. "Thank you. I will keep it close to my heart." He tucked the watch into his vest pocket.

After all the important words they had shared that evening, they felt almost overwhelmed. Sitting on the chaise, they shared the wine and fed each other the cheese, fruit and dessert, cuddled close. But they shared long, lingering looks, the real impact of what they had done tonight sinking in.

* * *

-This chapter is in two parts due to the length... read on! :D


	9. Saturday Night Pt 2

When the food was gone, Blaine stood, holding out his hand to Kurt. Taking Kurt's hand, he pulled him up to gather into his arms to hold tight. "I can't believe you are mine." He whispered, and kissed the sensitive spot below Kurt's ear.

Kurt chuckled. "You are mine, too." With his long fingers, he tilted Blaine's face up, looking deep into his hazel eyes. Dipping down, his lips were light and teasing, soft brushes against Blaine's. Kisses that made Blaine hungry for more.

"Please, Kurt…" Blaine groaned, already so affected by Kurt's nearness and their earlier cuddling.

He could feel Kurt's smile against his lips. "Please what, Blaine?"

Smiling, Blaine stepped back from Kurt. "Please, let me undress you." He wanted to take his time, appreciate every part of Kurt. Get him just as aroused and needy as Blaine already was.

With an arched brow, Kurt nodded and stepped back, dropping his hands to his sides.

Blaine's hands went to the buttons of Kurt's vest, undoing each one slowly. Strange how he dressed himself everyday, without even thinking about it, but here, undressing Kurt, it was such an intimate, caring act. To stand close and feel the heat of his body below the fabric. Glancing upwards, to see Kurt watching Blaine's hands undoing the buttons, being in his space, feeling his breath against his cheek. He drew off the vest, and laid it gently over the chair.

Squatting down, he untied Kurt's shoes, and felt Kurt's hand on his shoulder to brace himself as he raised each foot to remove his shoe and sock. Looking up at Kurt once he was barefoot, Blaine could tell Kurt was showing some response to having Blaine touching him, even in this non-sexual way. The memory of their first night in Paris came into Blaine's mind, how he had squatted down in front of Kurt then. Felt his hand on his shoulder and the back of his neck as he had pleasured him. Blaine ran his hands up Kurt's thighs to his waistband, and then stood back up again.

Kurt's eyes were darker with desire, and focused on Blaine's mouth. It was tempting to kiss him then, but Blaine moved to stand behind Kurt. Nuzzling his face into Kurt's back, he reached around with both arms to undo his shirt buttons, his hands working down his chest. When they were all undone, Blaine carried on with Kurt's fine trousers, his hands quick on the fastenings. He could feel Kurt's quickened breathing, the way he was responding to the light brushes of Blaine's hands over his body.

Sliding the trousers off, Blaine braced Kurt as he stepped free, and draped the pants neatly over the other chair. Stepping back behind Kurt, he drew the unbuttoned shirt over his shoulders and down his arms. Again, he took the time to arrange the shirt over the chair to keep it from wrinkling.

When he turned back, Kurt's hands were working on his ascot. Blaine tutted reproachfully, stepping closer to brush his hands away. "Please, sir, that is my job."

Kurt chuckled. "Oh, is it now? Are you my valet?" He dropped his hands, letting Blaine pull the fabric from his neck.

Blaine's lips twitched at the question. In a way, he was doing the role, but he'd laughed at the thought of Jacobs touching his father as intimately as he'd been touching Kurt the last few minutes. "I just took an oath to love and cherish you. Consider this part of that." His hands went to the hem of Kurt's undershirt, and he pulled it over his head, leaving him in only his underwear.

"So you are going to dress and undress me everyday for the next year?" Kurt smirked, his bare skin glowing in the soft candlelight.

Taking his hand, Blaine kissed the back of it. "No, just on special occasions like today." He led him over to the curtained bed, and encouraged Kurt to lie down.

"Wait, don't I get to undress you also?" Kurt shifted the pillows beneath his head as he stretched out on the sheets.

Blaine shook his head, his hands flying over the buttons of his shirt. "You undressed me slowly last night. And frankly, my dear Kurt, just seeing you lying in my bed like that is making it very difficult to maintain my composure." He was stripped down to his underwear quickly, his clothes just tossed onto the chaise in his haste.

He stepped towards the bed, but Kurt held up a hand. "Wait. Would you bring me my valise?"

Raising his eyebrows, Blaine nodded and found the mostly empty leather case on the floor, and passed it to Kurt. Kurt sat up, digging around in the case a little. The candlelight was a little far away to help him with his task.

Giving Blaine a small smile, Kurt pulled out a few items and passed the valise back to him. Very curious now, Blaine crawled into the bed beside him, lying on his side.

Setting the pillow to be up against the wall, Kurt leaned back against it and took Blaine's hand. "Perhaps I was a bit presumptuous, but when you told me that I'd be staying the night, I took the liberty of bringing a few things. Things we don't have to use unless you want to."

Blaine looked down at the items in Kurt's lap. There were a few facecloths and a towel, and nestled with them was the small bottle of olive oil Kurt had used on his pomade. His eyebrows drew down for a minute, and then he realized what the items were for. He looked up at Kurt. "Oh, I've never…" And he was glad the candlelight was fairly dim as his face heated.

Shifting the cloths to under his pillow, Kurt put the small vial of oil up on the wooden ledge of the molding above them. He cuddled down next to Blaine, facing each other side by side, and gave Blaine a small kiss. "OK, never…but would you like to try?" His gaze was caring and watching Blaine closely.

Biting his lip, Blaine looked up into Kurt's large eyes, so close to his. This was scary, but also exciting. It was something he had been curious about, but never had a partner he felt comfortable enough to explore. He trusted Kurt, loved Kurt, and wanted to share this with him. He nodded slowly. "Does it … um… hurt?"

Taking his hand, Kurt pressed a kiss against it. "Not if your partner takes enough time to prepare you. The oil helps."

"Would it be me… or you…?" Blaine pushed his face into Kurt's chest, feeling a little embarrassed, but he was also harder than ever. Clearly his libido was in favor of the idea.

Planting little kisses along his jaw, Kurt was far too close and tempting. "Well, seeing as we have all night…I was hoping both of us…"

Blaine's eyes met Kurt's in surprise. He just assumed that Kurt was experienced in this, having been with Paul so long. "You mean you haven't…?"

Kurt was the one to look a little embarrassed now. "I've only done the one thing, but not the other. I'd like you to be my first for that. It was what I was picturing when I packed these things."

Cuddling Kurt close, Blaine gave him kisses that deepened, until they were both panting with need. Nodding, Blaine pushed his underwear off, and watched as Kurt mirrored his actions. Blaine's bed wasn't as big as the one he had at home, but it was wide enough they could lie side by side comfortably.

Moving over Blaine, Kurt touched and kissed all over, arousing him, but also helping him relax under his touch. By the time his slick fingers were giving Blaine sensations he had never experienced before, Blaine's shyness was gone and he was grasping Kurt to him. And seeing Kurt shifting into position, being so careful not to hurt Blaine, putting his needs before his own, made Blaine feel even more connected to this man. Hot kisses and whispers were shared, moving their bodies, finding a rhythm. Finding their shared pleasure.

* * *

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

-A/N: Thanks for reading this story so far & your comments. They made me happy.

-Fun Facts Time!

-Hooligans: A term usually used for the English football (soccer) fans who run amuck, caused mayhem or went on rampages. But the word's source may have been an ancient Irish family name, that became a byword for comedy and later on, violence. There were music hall songs, like 'The O'Hooligan Boys" popular in 1891, featuring the doings of a rowdy Irish family. There were comic routines, cartoons and other places the name appeared. Like another song, 'The Hooligans' with lyrics "Oh, The Hooligans! Oh, the Hooligans! Always on the riot, Cannot keep them quiet." Some gangs adopted the title, and over a few years the press adopted the word for any group of abusive or violent youths.

-Handfasting: '…in former times…it was the custom for the unmarried persons of both sexes to choose a companion, according to their liking, with whom they were to live till that time next year. This was called hand-fasting, or hand in fist. If they were pleased with each other at that time, then they continued together for life; if not, they separated, and were free to make another choice as at the first.' The [Old] Statistical Account of Scotland (1791-99). The sources for this practice vary widely, so it's not very clear how much handfasting was practiced in the past.


	10. Sunday

Blaine woke up to blue eyes smiling down at him, full of love and affection, and he wrapped his arms around Kurt tight to kiss him deeply.

"Mmmmm...you have just made one of my dreams come true." Blaine smiled up at Kurt, loving how rumpled he looked from sleeping.

Kurt chuckled, laying his head down on Blaine's chest. "Oh really?"

Blaine nodded, running his hands down Kurt's bare back. "I thought about it from our first night in Paris. That I'd love to wake up to your blue eyes."

"Mmmm...I like that. What else did you want?" Kurt snuggled closer, his arms around Blaine's chest.

His hands were tracing along Kurt's shoulders and arms now. "How I wanted to have you in a large comfortable bed and be able to explore your body for hours."

Kurt propped his chin on his hand, looking up at Blaine. "You did that last night, I seem to recall." His look was very warm.

Blaine nodded. "I also wanted to eat breakfast with you and steal kisses." He stretched his arms out over his head, arching his back. Kurt just shifted along with his motions, placing a kiss on Blaine's chest when he settled back down. "And to cuddle by a fire while we read books."

"Oh, I love that last one! I love reading." Kurt's eyes brightened even more.

Blaine chuckled. "I can tell. You are always using long words like claustrophobic in regular conversation. You had a pretty good education."

"Well, we wouldn't want you hand fasted to a dolt, now would we? I was wondering what we should call each other, though." Kurt rolled over and pulled the sheet up to his chest. The curtains around the bed made it a snug little cocoon for just the two of them, the only light coming in from the opening they had left for fresh air.

"Hand fasters? Hand fastees? Boyfriends?" Blaine suggested, chuckling at Kurt's head shakes at the answers. "Husbands?"

Kurt froze at that, and looked at Blaine. "Is that how you feel? Like we are married?"

Blaine nodded slowly. "Yes, I do." He chuckled at the words. "But seriously Kurt, I know our ritual, our ceremony, last night... Well, it was a little ad hoc and it was only the two of us... But I know we both meant every single word we said. They were straight from the heart and real. And that means a lot more to me than standing up in a church reciting someone else's words."

Kurt leaned closer until their foreheads touched. "I feel the same way. I feel so bonded to you." He closed his eyes and kissed Blaine. When he opened his eyes, there was a mischievous glint in them. "And we certainly consummated our vows quite thoroughly."

Chuckling, Blaine looked to the bed stand for his pocket watch to check the time, but then remembered it was Kurt's now, and probably still in his vest.

"Do you mind if I grab your watch from your vest? Just need to check the time." Blaine asked Kurt, who shook his head. Rolling to the edge of the bed, he saw the vest on the chair and was able to reach it without getting out of bed. He let out a small yelp when he felt Kurt's hand running over the curve of his ass.

"Sorry." Kurt smirked when Blaine laid back, his face one of complete innocence. "Your ass is so beautiful and round, and you were flaunting it right in front of me. Don't be surprised if I can't resist such flagrant displays of skin."

"Flagrant." Blaine chuckled as he opened the watch. "See, who says 'Flagrant' except exceptionally smart and well-read men like you?" He closed the watch and put it on the molding ledge.

"What time is it anyways? I need some time to eat and get ready before work." Kurt curled up against Blaine's side.

"9:10. I need to be at breakfast by 10:00 at the latest. There's a 10:30 church service I need to attend." Blaine looked over at Kurt. "Do you have a service onboard you can attend?"

Kurt yawned. "I think there is one probably in the 3rd class General Room. I'm not much of a church person though."

Blaine was surprised. He'd never heard of someone not going to church on Sundays. "You're not? Are you religious at all?"

Shrugging, Kurt leaned back against the pillows. "My family is German, so we are Lutherans. Some people in the family go to church, but a lot of us just read the Bible ourselves. It's more about faith than the church for us."

Blaine just shook his head, chuckling. "You are never boring, just like I said before, Kurt. There aren't many societal norms you don't question, are there?"

Kurt tilted his head to the side a bit, considering. "Well, when I realized I liked boys instead of girls, I realized I wasn't made from the same mold as everyone else. My life will never fit that idealized one, so I might as well make a life that fits me. Why should I be a part of a church that doesn't accept me? But let's not get into all that now. You better get up and go." Kurt gave Blaine a little push.

Blaine resisted, lying back down on the bed and taking Kurt's hand. "Wait, what's the plan for today, husband?"

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand. "Well, this husband has to work. Want to meet up after?"

Blaine made a funny face. "I kind of have this thing with Kitty, but I can cancel it."

"What kind of thing?" Kurt chuckled.

"She has some gathering planned in the library for the young first-class passengers. We'll probably play cards or charades or something." Blaine shrugged.

Kurt sat up, stretching his back. "How about you go to that and we meet up after? I could use an after work nap as I didn't get much sleep last night for some reason." He smirked down at Blaine.

Blaine sat up too. "OK, I have an idea. Can you meet me at midnight by the Cupid statue at the bottom of the first-class stairs?"

"Midnight? What should I wear?" Kurt smoothed his hand over Blaine's shoulder where there was a little love bite.

"That black suit you wore as Ludwig will be good." He yawned and stretched. "I'll have a long nap this afternoon to catch up on my sleep. But Kurt, should I even go to this thing with Kitty if we are making other plans for our future together?"

Kurt smiled, and kissed Blaine lightly. "We have the rest of this trip to figure out what we'll do after we get to New York. For now, just stick to your normal schedule and I'll stick to mine."

Blaine got out of bed after a final, long kiss and headed to the washroom. Through the door, he could hear Kurt singing to himself, "You made me love you, I didn't want to do it, I didn't want to do it..." And he could hardly shave his face, he was smiling so much.

* * *

Kurt pulled at his suit, making sure it was sitting straight as he walked down the hall. He'd never been in this section of the ship before, and it was always a little unnerving to be in first-class areas on his own. He always half-expected a heavy hand to land on his shoulder and haul him to the nearest exit as an intruder.

As he hurried along, he tried to act like he belonged there, sneaking quick glances at the lush decor. There was elaborately carved wood panelling everywhere, and a huge dome of frosted glass arched over the grand staircase.

It was surprising to see so many people walking around at midnight though. He hadn't been here before, but even to him it seemed strange. He looked around, noticing that they seemed to be agitated.

Walking down the staircase, he found the behaviour of everyone more and more odd. Blaine was at the base, standing beside the Cupid statue like he'd promised, but he was distracted, watching the people as well.

Kurt decided to act like a stranger in case Blaine's father was nearby. "Excuse me...Hi...Can I ask you a question?"

Blaine turned, and smiled up at Kurt. He held out his hand. "My name is Blaine."

"Kurt." Kurt said without thinking, as he shook Blaine's hand. He wasn't speaking with a different accent or using a different name tonight. "So, what exactly is going on?"

"It sounds like the ship hit an iceberg and it's pretty bad. I just saw the ship's designer walking by with rolled up blueprints, and he looked pretty grim." Blaine said, pulling Kurt down to stand near him.

Looking around, Kurt could sense the panic, especially in the crew. They were all seasoned seamen, who had worked years on other ships, and to see them looking nervous sent a pit of dread into Kurt's stomach.

"Should we go up to our lifeboat? I left a blanket in it." Kurt asked softly, biting his lower lip.

With a final glance around, Blaine nodded his head. He could see the danger here too. He clasped Kurt's hand tight. "Come on, I know a shortcut."

* * *

*** 98 Years Later ***

Kurt pulled at his suit, making sure it was sitting straight as he walked down the hall. He'd never been in this school before, and it was a little unnerving to be here on his own. He half-expected a heavy hand to land on his shoulder and haul him to the nearest exit as an intruder.

As he hurried along, he tried to act like he belonged there, as he snuck quick glances at the lush decor. There was elaborately carved wood panelling everywhere, and a huge dome of frosted glass arched over the grand staircase.

It was surprising to see so many people running around though. He hadn't been here before, but even to him it seemed odd. He looked around, noticing that they seemed to be very excited about something.

Walking down the staircase, he found the behaviour of everyone more and more strange.

Kurt decided to ask someone about it. "Excuse me...Hi...I'm new here. Can I ask you a question?"

A boy with dark hair turned, his wide hazel eyes looking oddly familiar somehow. He smiled up at Kurt and held out his hand. "My name is Blaine."

"Kurt." Kurt said without thinking, as he shook Blaine's hand. "So, what exactly is going on?"

"The Warblers." The hazel-eyed boy replied, and went on to explain about an impromptu concert.

Kurt kept up his side of the conversation, but the whole time he was taking in Blaine's big eyes, his triangular eyebrows, his old-fashioned hairstyle and his full lips, wondering where he knew this boy from. There was such a strong sense of déjà vu.

Then, Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand tight. "Come on, I know a shortcut."

And they were running down a hall together.

* * *

*** 101 Years After Titanic Sinking ***

Blaine stood at the base of the grand staircase, looking up at Kurt with a wide, beautiful smile. "We met right here. I took this man's hand and we ran down that hallway.

"And for those that know me, I'm not in the habit of taking people's hands I've never met before but I think that my soul knew something that my mind and body didn't know yet.

"It knew that our hands were meant to hold each others, fearlessly and forever, which is why it's never really felt like I've been getting to know you, it's always felt like I was remembering you from something.

"As if every lifetime you and I have lived, we've chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love all over again, over and over for all eternity.

"And I just feel so lucky that I found you so soon in this lifetime because all I want to do, all I've ever wanted to do, is spend my life loving you.

"So Kurt Hummel, my amazing friend, my one true love, will you marry me?"

Kurt looked from the gold ring to Blaine's beautiful loving eyes, and knew there could only be one answer to this question. "Yes, yes...," he got out, before Blaine was hugging him tight.

*** THE END ***

* * *

-Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Thanks for reading & commenting! :)

If you rec (or dis!) this fic to anyone else, please don't spoil the ending for anybody else.

Time Jump: Well, I warned you there would be a time jump, didn't i? ;) Looking at when Blaine proposed at Dalton, the 'Love, Love, Love' episode aired in the fall of 2013, but it was when they were screwing around with Glee time, so it actually took place between their Valentine's Day hook-up at Will/Emma's non-wedding, and Blaine's graduation. It's possible that it was April 15, 2013, which would be 101 years and one day after Blaine & Kurt were handfast on the Titanic.

"The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has enough time." -Rabindranath Tagore

"...in the few hours we had together, we loved a lifetime's worth." -Sarah Connor in Terminator (1984)

For pictures of the real places and people I reference in this fic, I've created a blog for this story on tumblr at delightful-fear-ocean on tumblr and a photo album on my Facebook (Dee Lightful Fear).


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